


An Unkind Sanctuary

by AltUniverseWash



Series: Of Wars, both Quiet and Loud [2]
Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternia, Alternia-Focused, Alternian Empire, Alternian Revolution, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Blood and Violence, Borderline Explicit Sex, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Delightful Abattoir cinematic universe, Demisexuality, Derse and Prospit, Empire, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Guerrilla Warfare, Gun Violence, Hiveswap: Friendsim, Imperialism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Insurrection, Kissing, M/M, Military, Military Background, Military Training, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Other, POV Lesbian Character, POV Queer Character, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Ascension, Quadrant Vacillation, Rebellion, Rebels, Revolution, Revolutionaries, Self-Auspistice, Shipping, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 54
Words: 127,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltUniverseWash/pseuds/AltUniverseWash
Summary: The fires of the Alternian revolution have been lit. The High Imperator is dead, but the Empress still lives.In the secret places of the world, the revolutionaries gather and consolidate their strength, chipping away the monolith of the Empire wherever they can. But all is not well, for there are those who would gladly wipe away one form of subjugation only to replace it with their own.The rebellion has already begun - this is the story of the Alternian Insurrection.
Relationships: ?????? Elwurd & Chixie Roixmr, ?????? Elwurd/Chixie Roixmr, ?????? Elwurd/Daraya Jonjet, Azdaja Knelax/Konyyl Okimaw, Daraya Jonjet/Bronya Ursama, Daraya Jonjet/Bronya Ursama/Lynera Skalbi, Daraya Jonjet/Lynera Skalbi, Lynera Skalbi/Bronya Ursama, Marsti Houtek & Konyyl Okimaw, Polypa Goezee & Tegiri Kalbur, Tyzias Entykk & Daraya Jonjet, Tyzias Entykk/Stelsa Sezyat
Series: Of Wars, both Quiet and Loud [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115978
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Friction Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Please be mindful of the tags - this work deals with serious themes, mature topics, and features frequent violence, especially gun/military violence. There is also a fair amount of sexual content - although it is not explicit, calling it "safe for work" might be a bit of a stretch. Major character death may occur without warning.
> 
> If you haven't already, you should read _A Delightful Abattoir_ first, as this is a direct sequel.

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

The 4th Sweep of Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty Trizza Tethis

the Southern Wastes - 0113 local time (1613 AUT)

She wrapped the traveling cloak around her — protection against the burning daylight and the blistering sand that kicked up off the hard-pack when the wind got bad. She settled on the saddle of the massive deercat lusus that shifted uneasily beneath her — the only reliable method of transportation in the harsh desert conditions of the Southern Wastes. She shifted the Alternian Army carbine in her hands — the tool of ugly necessity she had learned to use to help reshape the world.

Daraya Jonjet glared into the burning bright and leaned against the front of the saddle, waiting for the signal from up ahead. The others were staggered out and hunkered down behind the dunes — Polypa Goezee and Cirava Hermod. Hardly an invading army by any possible stretch of the imagination, but it was enough. Sometimes, enough was simply enough.

Up ahead, Polypa waved a hand in the air, and Daraya urged the lusus forward, bending in as it quickly padded along the scorched surface of the wastes, then letting up once she came up alongside Polypa. From behind, Cirava joined the two of them, keeping their head down and wearing a pair of goggles against the possibility of dust.

“Our informant has given the signal,” Polypa said quietly. “We’re clear up to the next set of dunes and then we’ll have to slip the perimeter. It should be light — the detachment that was there rolled out last night.”

That was good news — the trick with raiding an Alternian Army supply depot is that it often involved a great deal of risk. Troops were often moved through the depots… at least they were these days.

But it wasn’t going to be empty, and it wasn’t going to be easy. That was the part that Polypa was leaving out… because what was the point in rubbing that in? They all knew the risks involved, and they’d all come of their own free will. Daraya checked the carbine in her hands again… in the last half-sweep it had gone from something alien to something that she found a kind of strange comfort in.

“Guard post is on the north side,” Cirava said — they had a small portable screen out and were checking a tactical map that lit up in dull greens and blacks. The portable screen was a combat model… long-since made obsolete but available for purchase on the black market. That was often the main driving factor in their equipment selections — simple availability.

Polypa nodded. “Right. We’ll circle around and hit it so you can patch in and disable the drones. Sound like a good plan?” Polypa looked from Cirava to Daraya and they nodded back in turn. Polypa was in command, but her ability to make a decision ended at ordering the people she was commanding into something that they knew was wrong. This wasn’t, after all, the Army.

“Okay, good,” she said, pulling her cloak up around her neck and shouldering her own carbine. “Let’s get around the north side and get ready.”

* * *

Luckily, the northern side of the supply depot has a series of natural trenches that concealed their approach until they were within a couple hundred yards of the base itself. They easily reached the last point of cover they would have until the mission was over. Polypa signalled a halt and they circled up once more.

“Okay, last chance to change the plan,” she said quietly. “Now or never.”

Cirava shrugged — “I’m fine with it. I mean, as much as anything.”

Daraya nodded in agreement. “For the fallen.”

She caught a glimpse of the sad smile in the shadows of Polypa’s cloak. “For the fallen. Let’s fucking do this.” Polypa unshouldered her carbine and checked the chamber. “Don’t stop until we’re at the guard post.”

Daraya had done this before, but there was something surreal about it that she never really got used to. She spurned the lusus out from the cover of the natural stone outcroppings and bent low, keeping her profile as low as possible. The guards would probably spot them, but from a distance — especially in the glare of the day — they would just look like a group of lusii that had escaped. It wasn’t a particularly believable scenario, but it was enough to get close.

Within a hundred yards, Daraya could’ve sworn she heard the guards shouting at each other. At fifty yards, it was better than even odds. At twenty yards, a certainty. At ten, she could hear their words clearly. They’d come running out in front of the guard post, obviously with no clue what to do about three unknown lusii running directly at them.

Quickly, Daraya pulled on the reins and guided the lusus to the side — there were three guards standing there holding rifles, but they looked like they had no clue what was going on. For a brief second, Daraya felt bad.

_Why’d you have to pick the wrong side here?_

And then the feeling was gone. Daraya leveled the carbine, braced it against her shoulder, and squeezed the trigger slowly. Matching reports sounded from her and Polypa’s carbines, and two of the guards dropped to the ground, bronze blood splashing to the hard-scrabble dirt beneath. One more shot from Polypa, and the final guard went down hard.

Daraya swung around on the saddle and dropped from the lusus. Once she was on the ground, she slapped the lusus on the haunches and it turned to race off — they would wait nearby until signalled with a particular whistle. Nearby, the others quickly jumped down and advanced on the guard post.

“Daraya, on me. Cover Cirava!” Polypa was yelling now — at some point the often-quiet woman who spent most of her time reading in the caverns and messaging her moirail had disappeared and been replaced with the former Command Sergeant who had been right there when the High Imperator died.

Cirava was hauling a large case with them, panting as they dragged their equipment toward the guard post. Daraya ran up next to them, helping with the other end of the case.

“Thanks,” they said. “This shit’s heavy!”

Fortunately, the door to the guard post had been left open in the confusion, so they didn’t need to waste any of their precious few breaching charges on it. Polypa led, quickly checking the guard post before heading through the door.

“Okay, all clear,” she said quickly. “Cirava, get tapped into the system!”

Cirava ran over to nearby security console and began snapping connectors together and splicing wires. In five minutes, they had set up what was effectively a field commander’s console, but without pesky obstacles like requiring a password or biometric data to use it. Cirava grinned and muttered “jack-fucking-pot” under their breath.

Polypa was still in full commander mode — “Okay — Daraya, watch the entrance and keep an eye on the barracks. We don’t have an alarm but gunfire’s loud.”

Daraya took up a position in the guard post that allowed her to easily see as much of the base as she could. That mostly meant staring down the sights of her carbine and waiting for Cirava while they did the difficult work of disconnecting the base’s automated security measures. It wasn’t anything that Daraya actually _understood_ on anything more than a basic level, but it didn’t matter. They all had their own roles to play, and they were stronger together than any of them could ever be alone.

“Got it!” Cirava shouted from behind her. They sounded ecstatic. “Drones are all powered down. Automated turrets and alarms are offline. I was even able to unlock the storage vault so we don’t have to blow the damn thing!”

“Fucking _nice!_ ” Daraya shouted with a grin. She quickly regained her composure. “I… I mean, that’s good. We’re all set?”

Cirava nodded and turned to Polypa. “You read to signal the lusii?”

In response, she pulled a small metal whistle out of her pocket and blew a sustained, high-pitched note. Within a minute, the three lusii came running back and began to mill around the gate that lay past the guard post.

* * *

It took them a few minutes to get the lusii over to where they needed them. Their contact had identified three storage vaults with equipment that their allies could use — explosives, ammunition, and the prize of all of it: a pair of anti-material rifles that’d been shipped in only a couple cycles before.

Cirava had done their job remarkably well — the storage vaults stood open next to each other, and all they needed to do was go inside. Daraya stood watch outside while Cirava and Polypa both went in to check the vaults.

“There’s only one rifle,” Polypa’s voice echoed from inside. “Cirava, did you get the right vaults?”

“Yes!” they said quickly. “I found the one that listed it on the manifest. If there’s one thing the Army’s good at, it’s pointless fucking bureaucracy.”

“Fine. We’ll take the one. Grab everything else and get it on the lusii.” Polypa came out of the storage vault with two heavy-looking backpacks slung over her shoulders. “We all good out here, Daraya?”

Daraya nodded. “All good.” She swept her carbine over the base again — it was still quiet. All the soldiers stationed there would be sleeping the day off… except for the guard detail they’d just killed. Five minutes passed, then ten… and finally the gear was loaded up onto the lusii. Polypa went inside each of the storage vaults in turn.

“What are you doing?” Daraya hissed back at her. “We need to be gone.”

“Just leaving a little present for our friends,” Polypa called back. “A little thank-you for everything they gave us.”

“Fine, well just hurry it up before—” Daraya was in the process of turning back to her post when the words died in her throat.

Standing a few yards away was a figure wrapped up in an Army-issue traveling cloak. Before Daraya could open fire — before she could even _react_ , the figure pulled a pistol and fired twice. Behind her, Daraya heard Cirava cry out and she turned to see them dropping down to the hard, Alternian dirt.

Daraya screamed, turned back to the cloaked figure, and opened fire. The anti-personnel rounds ripped through cloak and flesh alike and the figure dropped heavily to the ground. Daraya turned and ran to Cirava at the same moment that Polypa was coming out of the storage vaults.

“What the fuck happened?!” she yelled. “We need to go _now!_

Daraya slid down into the dry dirt next to Cirava and reached out to grab their hand.

“Oh stop it, you’re fine,” she said. She could see the two clean holes in the middle of their cloak — clean, bloodless holes. Daraya reached out and tapped the chitin chest armor that Cirava was wearing under their cloak. “See? It’s good shit!”

Cirava glared at her. “It still smarts to get hurt!”

She laughed. “No it fucking doesn’t — not with this shit, not with a damn pistol.” Daraya pushed herself back up and helped Cirava to their feet.

“Whatever bullshit you two are discussing, we need to be gone right now.” Polypa was already mounting the saddle of her own lusus. Quickly, Daraya and Cirava followed her lead and they all began to ride straight back to the northern gate. Behind them, Daraya could swear she heard the commotion of the base coming to life. But their automated systems were all down. And Polypa had something else for them.

Once they’d hit the gate, Polypa pulled a small detonator from her gear and thumbed the trigger twice. In an immeasurably short instant, the explosives that Polypa had taken from the base’s own storage vaults went off. The noise was loud — but Daraya had experience around explosives at this point… unfortunately some of it quite personal. She braced against the lusus and held on.

* * *

In ten minutes, they were safely back into the cover of the natural cover that led up to the approach to the base. Polypa signalled for them to slow down, and their lusii all huddled together.

“Cirava, how long until their drones are back online?” Polypa asked. Cirava shrugged their shoulders.

“At least… four hours? I set up some pretty fucked-up shit in their system and wiped most of their protocols. If they try to reinitialize without rebuilding them, the drones will just target everything with a pulse nearby.” They laughed. “Not my first time out, yeah?”

Polypa smiled. “No one said it was. You both good?”

Daraya nodded and Cirava groaned. “I took a hit, Poly. Probably gonna need at least a week off to recover.”

“You’re so full of shit!” Daraya called out with a smile. “You got clipped in the body armor and it’s not even scratched!” Cirava grinned, but they didn’t say anything else. Together, they rounded up their lusii and set off back on the route to their extract point.

vengefulSpirit began chatting with foreverVigilant at 0154 AST (1654 AUT)

Daraya

▲’sup, bitch? You still stuck up your own nook?▲

Lynera

-No as a matter of fact I am NOT!!!

Daraya

▼Awww, pity. I was gonna offer to help you with it.▲▲

Lynera

-!!I’m sure you can make do by yourself!!   
-You always managed to in the past

Daraya

▲Oh shit is that black flirting?▲   
▲▲You actually know what the fuck you’re doing?!▲▲

Lynera

-!!OH SHUT UP!!   
-Did you get everything?

Daraya

▲Of fucking COURSE we did!▲

▼▼Less one big rifle, but what can you do?▼▼

Lynera

-Good   
-And you are safe?

Lynera

▲▲Good as new!▲▲

▼Although...▼

Lynera

-“Although”?

Daraya

▼I WAS a bit reckless at times, I think▼

Lynera

-Well   
-I’m sure I’ll have to… chastise… you when you return.

Daraya

▲▲▲ ;) ▲▲▲

Daraya put away the palmhusk and leaned forward in the saddle, yawning to herself. The adrenaline had all worn off and now she was more tired than anything else. Being up in the middle of the day was unpleasant… but necessary. She wanted to make a joke about recruiting posters, but they didn’t really _do_ recruiting posters.

Daraya laughed to herself — “Welcome to the New Alternian Defense Force… we’re too broke to have recruiting posters.” She laughed again, and settled in for the long ride back to the meeting point.


	2. First Contact

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 0105 local time (1605 AUT) 

Stelsa had never minded the waiting as much as Tyzias did. She found that the quiet calmed her nerves — helped to steady her and make her more alert. She almost enjoyed the anticipation before anything started happening — tried to savor that last silent moment before everything went to hell. It wasn’t a luxury she had much anymore.

But right then — she was going to take every opportunity to do it.

That did, of course, involve a certain degree of nudity. And a certain level of intimacy. And Tyzias wasn’t quite crawling up the walls the way she had been a half hour ago. Instead, she was lying on her stomach on the longueplank in their shitty rented room and smiling. Stelsa loved to see her smile — wished that she could see it more often, but she knew how heavily things weighed on her matesprit.

“Stels… how’re you feeling…” Tyzias drew the words out, sounding sleepy. Stelsa walked over and sat down next to her, running her fingers along Tyzias’ naked back, down to the subtle rise of her buttocks, then back up. She saw Tyzias shiver and a little bit and shift herself.

“I’m doing fine right now,” she said. That was an honest answer. It was hard to say that she felt fine in the general sense of the word, because so much was always happening these days.

“You’re not nervous about our contact?” Tyzias muttered, shifting her head. Stelsa ran her fingers down to her matesprit’s grub scars and touched each one delicately in turn before she responded.

“Zizi, I’m nervous about a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I have to let it control my life. I would never have gotten through the Auditerrorizer program if I did that.”

Tyzias laughed softly. “You know _technically_ you never did, right? We weren’t fully done with either of our programs before we decided to…” She stuck out a hand and gestured vaguely around the cramped rental room. “You know.”

Stelsa leaned forward and kissed Tyzias on the upper back, feeling her own bare stomach brush up against Tyzias’ skin and finding herself momentarily less calm… but for very different reasons than the overall stress she was dealing with. _Maybe in a little while._

“Okay, fine,” Stelsa said quietly. “I’m not going to argue with you about it.” She lay down on Tyzias’ back, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly. “Not right _now_ anyway.”

Tyzias laughed again, jostling Stelsa slightly. “And what were you thinking of doing _now,_ anyway? We’ve got nothing particular to do while we wait.”

“Nothing,” she said under her breath. “Don’t want to do anything right now. Just… let me hold you for a while.” She wrapped her arms around Tyzias’ shoulders and pressed her head down against the space between Tyzias’ shoulder blades. “If you don’t mind.”

“No. Sorry… I was just… never mind.”

Stelsa muttered under her breath — “Well, you can be salacious on your own time.” Tyzias snorted laughter at that one and tucked her chin against Stelsa’s arms. “Is something funny, Ms. Entykk?”

“Why no, Ms. Sezyat. I just found myself in a better mood for no reason.” She wiggled her hips and Stelsa felt her face getting hot.

“You stop that!” Stelsa said quickly — she closed her eyes and smiled. “Later.”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

The noise of the palmhusk cut through the quiet and Stelsa almost fell off the loungeplank. “What in the world is that about?” She stood up and quickly grabbed the palmhusk from where it was placed — in a neat and orderly manner, of course — on a nearby table.

“Who is it?” Tyzias rolled onto her side and then sat herself up, crossing her legs and propping herself on her arms. “I thought we’d have at least ten minutes.” She adopted a look of mock disappointment and Stelsa smiled.

“Oh stop it, darling.” She glanced down at the palmhusk. “It’s… the contact?”

{UNKNOWN CONTACT} began chatting with s_sezyat at 0117 AST (1617 AUT)

{UKNOWN} 

(we need to meet at earliest convenience.) 

(i have vital information.) 

Stelsa 

WHAT IS IT? CAN YOU GIVE US A LITTLE BIT MORE TO GO ON PLEASE? 

{UNKNOWN} 

(can’t. eyes everywhere.)   
(meet at the fifth location.)

Stelsa’s brow furrowed and she realized that she was clenching her jaw. Their contact had been consistently reliable, but she was also extremely paranoid — to the point where they didn’t even know her name. She’d set meetings last-minute and have vague statements mixed in with the actually useful, actionable information. The existence of the New Alternian Defense Force and all it represented was in constant peril, and having all the information they could get was essential.

She wondered sometimes — often, even — where the source was even getting this information. It didn’t escape Stelsa that this might all be another game… another case where someone was playing an agenda that they wouldn’t know about until much later. That was frustrating, but they couldn’t do anything about it other than try to remain aware of the possible pitfalls and do their best not to fall headfirst into every single one of them.

“Time to get dressed, Zizi.” Stelsa was already pulling her own clothes on… hunting for her bra was taking longer than expected. “Our contact wants to meet. Maybe something about the operation today.”

Tyzias screwed up her mouth. “Mmm… I hope not. They should already be hitting the Army depot. Can’t do much if they’re already in the shit.”

Stelsa shrugged and slipped the rest of her clothes on, smoothing her pants and blouse quickly. She stepped over to Tyzias and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Get dressed, Zizi, I promise we can pick up when we get done.”

Tyzias blushed. “Yeah… okay… sure.” She smirked and started to look around for her own clothes.

Meanwhile, Stelsa had one last piece of attire to put on — the Alternian Fleet officer’s pistol that she never went outside without anymore.

* * *

One of the major disadvantages of the clandestine nature of most of what she did was that Stelsa always found that she was meeting people during the day. Even with their traveling cloaks and dark glasses, the sunlight was unpleasant in the extreme. Hivefield hadn’t been designed with day travel in mind — there were large swaths of the city that had basically no shade whatsoever. It was lovely at night… and painful during the day.

Their contact had provided a series of rotating rendezvous points, ordered in a numbered list that they’d had to memorize. Fortunately, Stelsa had a well-honed ability to remember minutiae from her days in the Legiscorpus, so she knew every location precisely. The fifth meeting point was a forgotten back alley in Hivefield’s lowblood district. The city didn’t bother to make a distinction between anyone south of jade, so all the rust, gold, and olive bloods all got lumped together in a massive district that took up most of the city’s lower half. High bloods lived in a towering area known (uncreatively) as “the Heights” and the jade and teals were kept somewhere in the middle, in a state of perpetual uncertainty as to whose lot they were going to be thrown in with.

Once they arrived at the alley, they walked to the very end and took cover behind a series of metal dumpsters. Stelsa hated it — the dumpsters were overflowing with garbage… even in ideal circumstances, this district would be last on the drones’ service schedule. In the middle of a slowly-boiling rebellion… she doubted the drones even came here anymore, and the residents had more important things to worry about than the trash in one specific alley.

“This better be worth it,” Tyzias muttered from her place crouched next to Stelsa. “There’s a couple things I can think of I’d rather be doing right now.”

Stelsa elbowed her matesprit lightly in the ribs and smiled. “Stop it. We’ll have time for it later.”

“I’m just joking around,” Tyzias muttered. “I’m just antsy lately. Don’t know why.”

Stelsa smiled at her. “It’s fine, Zizi. We’ll take some time off when we’re done here.”

Tyzias laughed and shook her head. “Time off _where?_ The scenic jade cavern, hidden from the sight of civilization? Fuck… being wanted sucks.”

Stelsa nodded. Being wanted by every conceivable element within the Alternian Empire did indeed “suck.” They’d been lucky before — the chaos around the bombing of Everdim had kept their growing involvement with the rebellion from being discovered at first. But everything that had happened aboard the Legiscorpus flagship hadn’t exactly been _subtle_ , and Stelsa suspected that rumors were starting to spread about the first two officers of the nascent New Alternian Defense Force intelligence service.

It was another ten minutes before she heard the signal — a series of pebbles tossed against the side of the dumpster in a specific pattern. Stelsa started to break from her cover behind the dumpster when she heard a voice hissing from behind her.

“Don’t move. Eyes everywhere.”

Stelsa turned to see their contact standing in the shadows at the very back of the alley, and she suspected that she’d been waiting there the entire time. Stelsa settled back against the wall of the alley and waited for the contact to approach on her own. Their contact was dressed in a brown overcoat that draped loosely and gathered up around their face, and a large-brimmed hat that would certainly provide more-than-adequate protection against the Alternian Sun.

There was nothing on the contact’s outfit that would hint at blood caste, occupation, or anything else that could identify her to anyone. That was something that Stelsa was rapidly beginning to understand was more-or-less a necessity in this line of work.

“Were you followed?” their contact whispered. Both Tyzias and Stelsa shook their heads and the contact nodded quickly. “Did you bring your palmhusks?” They shook their heads — they’d made that mistake once and the contact had refused to talk to them for a week after. “Good. Follow me.”

She motioned for them to come back into the rear of the alley — and then she faded out into the shadows. Following quickly after, Stelsa saw that the alley had a narrow, low passage in the back that was tunneled right into the wall of the adjacent building. Crouching low, she followed their contact along until they came out the other side in a small, nondescript room.

“It’s safe to talk here,” the contact said quietly. “I have information that is too sensitive for electronic communications.” She went over to a pile of trash in the corner and fished underneath it, pulling out a file folder. Stelsa immediately recognized the folder as one that was commonly used for Legiscorpus briefings. Their contact handed the folder to Tyzias, who started flipping through.

The contact reached out and slapped Tyzias’ hand — “No! Keep it hidden until you’re back in a safe place.”

“What is this?” Stelsa asked. “Is something happening?”

From next to her, she heard Tyzias mutter. “What’s _Operation Watchword_ anyway, and why does it have the Alternian Intelligence Service emblem slapped all over it?”

Inwardly, Stelsa smiled — Tyzias had only glanced over the papers for a second, but she’d always had the talent to read quickly and retain what she read.

“I can’t speak on this any more!” the contact said quickly. “I’m not at liberty to discu—”

“You don’t know, do you?” Tyzias interrupted. Stelsa saw the contact’s face blanch. “I thought so. You’re passing us intel but you don’t even know what it means half the time.”

“No… I… no, that’s not true! There are eyes everywhere!” The contact’s voice had taken on a distinctly shaky quality. “I’m not at liberty to—”

“Stop,” Stelsa interrupted. “Please. We don’t know who you are… and we hope that the Alternian Empire doesn’t either. But they _do_ know who we are. We don’t have the liberty of anonymity anymore… only our ability to hide.”

The contact shuffled her feet and looked off to the side. “I… I know. I’m sorry.”

Stelsa continued — “We don’t expect you to tell us who you are or where you get your information from, but please don’t pretend to have more than you actually do. Is there anything else you can tell us about this file?”

She shook her head quickly. “No! Honest! It’s mostly nonsense text anyway!”

Tyzias had opened up the folder again and was paging through it. “It looks encrypted… or cyphered or something. We’ll need Cirava to take a look at it.”

“No names!” the contact hissed.

“Sorry.” Tyzias closed the folder. “Thank you for bringing us this. If you think it’s important, we’ll trust you.”

With that, the contact ushered them out of the small room, back through the passage in the wall, and out into the alley. They knew the deal — they’d leave on their own and the contact would leave when she was ready and felt she could do so safely. Quickly, Stelsa and Tyzias walked back down the alley. Tyzias had already concealed the folder in her traveling cloak.

“What do you make of all that?” Tyzias asked under her breath. “I think she’s pretending to have more access than she does, but this definitely looks legit. AIS uses Legiscorpus folders for their reports — I saw one once during training… that’s such a specific detail to get right.”

“We’ll look it over when we get back to the room,” Stelsa said quickly. “And then we should get back to the caverns. The others will be worried, and we need to get this back to them.”

“Yeah… I hope the raid went well.” Tyzias frowned in the shadows of her cloak. “I was sure this was gonna be about that.”

“Me too, Zizi,” Stelsa said. “I suppose that sometimes it’s not bad news.” She smiled.

Tyzias’ voice was drawn out — she sounded skeptical. “I dunno about that… this feels like bad news. Just not the kind that makes sense right away.”


	3. Dutiful and Kind

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0217 local time (1717 AUT)

Bronya sat at the small desk in the corner of her respite chamber — a desk which had increasingly become a kind of shrine to all of the planning she was beginning to realize she needed to do. She couldn’t sleep much lately. Partly that was the residual shock of everything that had happened in the past half sweep, and partly it was the shock of realization that there was so much left to do. So she sat up in the small hours of the day and planned.

From behind, she heard the soft sounds of someone padding across the chamber floor with bare feet. Bronya didn’t look up from her planning, but she smiled when she felt the delicate touch on her shoulder and the whispered brush of a kiss against her cheek.

“You’re not sleeping again. You need to sleep.” Lynera’s voice was heavy with worry — an almost perpetual state of things lately. She’d tempered her anxiety a bit in the last half sweep, but she was still a worrier. “I know your work is important, but you can’t do your work if you’re exhausted.”

“I know,” Bronya responded, leaning towards Lynera. The other woman reached out and touched Bronya’s cheek softly.

“So why don’t you come back to sleep?” Lynera leaned over and whispered the next part. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Bronya flushed quickly and reached up to grab Lynera’s hand. “Are you trying to _bribe_ me back into the recupercoon? That will never work because 1 — I am immune to flattery and charm, 2 — I have a lot to do, and 3 — you’re going to do what you’re implying anyway!” She closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against Lynera’s hand. Her matesprit leaned in closer.

“That might be true, but I still love you and this is still important.” She reached out to poke at the scribbled notes in front of Bronya. “What you’re doing… it can wait a few hours.”

Bronya frowned. Lately, it had been feeling like she was running out of time for everything. It was mostly irrational, she knew, but there was at least a grain of truth to it. They’d escaped from their old cavern. They’d made the arduous trek in the underground passages to the Free Jade Caverns — a place where the old ways of doing things were no longer acceptable. But in doing all this, Bronya had begun to realize a number of key things.

The foremost among them was that the way that Alternia raised grubs into wigglers was, to quote Daraya, _“extremely fucked up.”_

As soon as she started thinking about the implications behind it, the less she wanted to continue any of the traditions that they upheld as jade bloods. The idea of taking grubs, raising them into wigglers, and then setting them out on their own with only the protection of the lusii… the more Bronya thought on it, the more the pit in her stomach grew. They had grubs that would soon be ready to cocoon and grow into wigglers themselves — probably only a few perigees out for the oldest of them. And what would they do what those wigglers finally emerged from their cocoons?

“What _are_ you working on right now? I don’t think I’ve seen you this driven in… ever.” Lynera settled herself on the edge of the desk and leaned over to kiss Bronya’s forehead. Bronya smiled up at her and gestured at the papers in front of her.

“I’m trying to plan out how we’re going to raise wigglers until they’re old enough to properly be on their own.”

Lynera squinted down at the papers. “You mean here in the caverns?”

Bronya nodded. “I’m wondering if… maybe… it would be better to have the wigglers and their lusii continue to live here with us until such time as they can be 1 — educated properly, and 2 — allowed to leave of their own free will to make their own way in the world.”

“That is… Bronya, that’s…” Lynera’s face went through a few different emotions all at once, and she began to tear up. For that moment, Bronya could see the way she’d been — the way she idolized her so much. It was tempered with maturity and time, but it was still there. “Bronya that’s such a _good idea!_ What would be more revolutionary than undermining the whole basis for the Alternian Empire?”

If there was one thing Bronya could say about Lynera, it was that she had fallen headlong into the idea of the rebellion. Bronya supposed that having a kismesis as opinionated as Daraya hadn’t hurt in that department at all. When she allowed herself a brief moment of self-congratulation, Bronya liked to think that the contrast between her and Daraya had helped to balance Lynera out — to provide a sense of symmetry in her life that had been so sorely lacking in the past. She wasn’t a different person, but it was like watching a flower bloom out of the cracked dirt.

Bronya smiled, keeping her eyes closed and leaning into the feeling of Bronya’s presence up against her. It was comforting — pleasant and warm. “I thought so as well. What better way to sustain a rebellion than with each new generation. They will be raised into a world that is 1 — kinder, and 2 — better than Alternia ever was in the past.”

She didn’t quite believe it. She desperately _wanted_ to believe that what they were doing down here could matter in some way. That they could make an Alternia that would be better than the one they’d been hatched into. But, at the same time, it felt like a nigh-insurmountable obstacle sometimes. The entirety of the NADF — the self-styled New Alternian Defense Force — had a membership that could be measured in the dozens. Of those, only a small handful were committed enough to consistently put their very existence on the line for what they believed in. Bronya liked to count herself in that number. Though there was a time when she would’ve claimed that she was taking a neutral path, that time had long since passed away.

Lynera wrapped her arms around Bronya’s shoulders and hugged her tight… and Bronya sighed happily and snuggled herself into the embrace. She was, after all, allowed to take a moment to savor one good, sweet thing in the world. There was plenty enough misery to go around — why not have this simple thing for a while?

“I love you,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m glad that I finally decided to say it.” She pecked the arm encircling her shoulders with a kiss. “Okay… I’ll try to get some sleep.”

Bronya slipped gently out of the embrace and stood up, turning to face Lynera. Bronya had a few inches over her in height, and when they stood face-to-face, she was looking down at the other woman, staring into the light of her eyes.

“In the future, I will try to 1 — keep to a healthier sleep schedule and, 2 — let you know if I need help in keeping to my routine.” Bronya smiled and bent down to kiss Lynera on the lips — her matesprit pushed up into the kiss eagerly and made a soft _hmmm_ noise. Bronya let the kiss linger for a bit, letting the anxiety run off as she focused on how it felt. It wasn’t novel anymore — they’d done quite a bit together in the last half-sweep — but it still felt just as good. Just as calming.

Lynera pulled back and smiled at Bronya. “Okay. You need to sleep now.”

They did not, in fact, go to sleep right away… but it wasn’t long before they were both gently slumbering, each rested gently on top of the other in the sopor of the recupercoon.

* * *

Bronya woke from a deep and restful sleep to hear her palmhusk buzzing loudly from the desk. With a groan, she worked herself out from under the softly snoring figure of Lynera and walked to the desk, not even bothering to dress this time. _I’ll see what it is and then be back to sleep._

She looked down at the palmhusk and saw that she had messages from both Stelsa and Polypa waiting.

s_sezyat began chatting with grubsittersClub at 0312 AST (1812 AUT)

Stelsa

WE NEED TO MEET URGENTLY WHEN WE GET BACK   
WHICH TO BE CLEAR, WE ARE COMING BACK TONIGHT

I KNOW THIS IS CRYPTIC BUT PLEASE BE READY TO HAVE A MEETING

consumateprofessional111 began chatting with grubsittersClub at 0239 AST (1739 AUT)

Polypa

i know you’re never asleep * so hopefully you’ll see this *|   
we’re on our way back *|

mission accomplished * we got the stuff *|   
missing one thing * but that’s probably fine *|   
probably just a clerical error *|   
you know how teals and jades are *|

that was a joke * by the way *|

Bronya set the palmhusk down on the desk and frowned. She wasn’t in charge of anyone in the NADF — no one was really _in charge_ in the traditional sense of the word. When it came to tactical battlefield decisions, Polypa was the last word. Tyzias and Stelsa jointly advised everyone else on matters involving intelligence gathering and investigation. Mallek had been their technical leader, but he’d left the caverns a perigee ago and no one had heard from him since. That left Cirava, who was enthusiastic but inexperienced, in that role.

All of them seemed to defer to Bronya, and she wasn’t even sure _why_ exactly. She had a lot of experience organizing others, but she had next to no knowledge about espionage, or guerilla warfare, or any of the other things that the NADF was increasingly getting involved in. Still, the others all trusted her as a kind of sounding board for their ideas and concerns. She didn’t even _want_ the role — it just seemed to naturally happen over time. Mostly, she just wanted to try to build something better than what they’d all been a part of.

Once again, softly padded footsteps sounds on the floor behind her, and Bronya turned to see Lynera standing there. She hadn’t bothered to dress either, and she kept her arms tucked across her chest.

“What is it? I thought you said you were going to sleep?” Lynera looked a little bit hurt as she spoke. “Please…”

“It’s not that,” Bronya said quietly. “I woke up because the palmhusk was buzzing… I missed messages from Stelsa and Polypa.”

“How’s Daraya?” Lynera asked almost immediately, her head perking up at the mention of her kismesis. Bronya couldn’t help but smile — the two of them were far better for each other than either of them would ever admit. In the half-sweep they’d been together, they’d evened out each other’s flaws and pushed each other to do things that neither of them thought possible.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Polypa didn’t mention Daraya — which I assume means she’s fine — but she did say that they’re on their way back.” She looked up thoughtfully. “So did Stelsa, as a matter of fact. They should all be here by nightfall.”

Lynera’s mouth turned up into a gentle smile. “Then you’ve got enough time to get back to sleep.”

“Yeah…” Bronya looked down, her mind turning over and over at what Stelsa could’ve found that would have her back so quickly. She and Tyzias were supposed to be staying in Hivefield for another two cycles to try to gather additional information on the ground. If they were coming back already, something had happened or they’d found something important. She knew that neither of them would say much over the palmhusks, but she knew them well enough at this point.

“I’m sorry — I’m just worried,” Bronya said softly. Lynera walked forward and bent down to kiss her again — right on the mouth, lingering and slow. Bronya’s eyes went wide as she settled into the kiss, then let it fade out of its own accord.

“What was that for?” she asked with a half-smile. “Trying to distract me from my troubles again?”

“Only if you want to,” Lynera said quickly. “If they’re coming back by nightfall then we still have a few hours. And we can fill that with worrying about what might be, or we can fill it with doing something else that we both enjoy.” She shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

_She has changed._ Not in a shallow, ephemeral way but in a lasting, impactful sense that she was constantly working to improve herself. To where she was becoming the person that Bronya always believed she could be — dutiful and kind, loyal and conscientious. But always, _always_ willing to stand up for the people she cared about. _She has changed, and I still love her just as much as I ever did._

Lynera smiled and blushed. “As a matter of fact… 1 — yes, I do.”


	4. Empty Graves

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1844 AUT

“Commander on deck!” the olive blood Command Sergeant that served as her executive officer shouted, and everyone snapped to attention. Ardata Carmia ignored them until she reached the command console and sat down behind it.

“Go back to what you were fucking doing,” she said quickly, and the assembled officers — mostly teals and jades — all went back to their duties without hesitation. It had been half a sweep since her command changed forever, and she’d made sure to instill a healthy dose of fear into her crew. Selective threats and physical discipline had ensured that no one would question her orders — and with the High Imperator dead, the Empress off on the Pink Moon, and a good number of the purple bloods gone, there wasn’t really anyone who sat above her on the hemospectrum that cared enough to do anything about how she ran things.

The Iustitita had been badly damaged in the bombing — that fucking clown Marvus had seen to that — but the structure of the ship hadn’t been compromised. A couple perigees spent in the dock on the Green Moon, and it was completely refitted from a Legiscorpus flagship to an assault carrier. The ship was gutted and much of the internal setup was reconfigured to house Alternian Army troops and dropships.

No one was under any illusions about what was happening on Alternia — the spark of revolution had already touched off the tinderbox… now it was burning everywhere, and the Empress had decided that it was important to snuff out that flame. But some small part of Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty must have still wanted the people to adore her, because she had very specifically decreed that orbital strike munitions weren’t to be deployed against Alternian settlements.

The result was a war that was going to be fought primarily on the ground, and it had already ground its fair share of Alternian bodies.

Ardata didn’t say anything about it for fear of reprisal from the Empress, but secretly she was glad, in spite of the losses that the Army had suffered. There was something about the knowledge that one moment could mean the end of a million Alternian lives… if wasn’t something that Ardata was sure she could keep living with, in spite of her genuine devotion to the cause of the Alternian Empire.

_It wasn’t even supposed to be my ship…_ She still remembered how it had happened — how the Ignus had originally been tasked to reinforce the planetary assault. But then, at the last minute, the High Imperator had ordered them to take the Iustitia into low orbit. Of course it had been armed with planetary strike weapons — all the Fleet flagships were. Ironically, it had been easier to re-task the Iustitia to level a city than it would’ve been to try to deploy ground troops to assault the rebel stronghold.

She still saw the city in her dreams, sometimes. Faded and deep with time, but it was still there and she knew every foot of it. And thousands upon thousands of souls looked up at her and pleaded for her to stop. And she smiled and shook her head, because it was already done. She would wake with the sense of urgency — as if there was something that she needed to prepare for.

But that was ridiculous.

Because it had already been done.

Ardata skimmed through combat reports on her command console, quickly internalized what was presented, and moved on to the next set of facts and figures. Every cycle there was another report of some attack — a bombing or a raid or some other small pin-prick in the vast palm of the Empire. None of it amounted to much of anything individually, but in aggregate it was hurting. The Army had a lot of resources that were functionally limitless, but the Empress’ patience wasn’t one of them. Eventually she would decide to move on — and whether that meant following her predecessor’s decision to take the mantle of The Condescension and venture out to the far reaches or if it meant she would decide to level the planet to clear out the rebellion… Ardata had no way of knowing.

The reports this cycle weren’t much — a minor skirmish with some poorly-equipped rebels in Northern Alternia that had resulted in a handful of casualties before the rebels vanished into the countryside. A bombing that had killed a minor Legiscorpus official — barely even worth noting. A raid on an Army depot in Southern Alternia that had seen minimal damage and the theft of some generic military hardware… unfortunately including a rather expensive anti-material weapons system.

But that one had been flagged for follow-up.

_By Legiscorpus?”_ But Ardata recognized the seal that flashed in the corner of the screen. _By Fleet Intelligence._

Ardata motioned to her executive officer, who appeared by her side in an instant.

“Go and get Watch Sergeant Knelex and have him meet me in my ready room — tell him it’s urgent and don’t take no for an answer.”

* * *

To his credit, Watch Sergeant Azdaja Knelex was punctual — inside of ten minutes, he was standing in front of Ardata’s desk in the ready room. She didn’t waste any time getting to the issue — at her rank, she didn’t have to.

“Why was the report on the raid on the Army depot in the Southern Wastes flagged for review by Fleet Intelligence?” She leaned back in her chair and waited for the answer. Azdaja drew himself up and, to his credit, answered her directly.

“There were inconsistencies with the events of the last couple cycles before the raid.” It was a painfully vague answer, but Ardata had come to expect that from Fleet Intel. They made the Legislacerators’ legalistic evasion look positively open-book by comparison.

“Would you mind expanding on that answer, Sergeant?” Ardata asked, her three eyes fixed into a steady glare. “Do I need to remind you that I am currently the senior commander in orbit right now?” _By attrition, but we don’t need to call attention to that specifically._

“The manifests relating to some of the goods that the raid appeared to target — they were altered a cycle before the raid even happened, and the alterations included some items that went missing despite the storage lockers not being targeted by the raiders.”

That _was_ interesting. Ardata was smart enough to make the connection — had almost ended up in Fleet Intelligence herself. “Someone was trying to use the raid as cover for taking something else. Interesting. What items were removed from the manifests?”

Azdaja nodded and narrowed his eyes. “A few items. Most weren’t notable — a few weapons and ammunition. But two items that are particularly valuable.” He leaned in closer to the desk. “One was a very specific type of anti-material rifle. One intended to be used primarily against heavy drones.”

Ardata frowned — that was concerning. Not the end of the world, given how many of those rifles existed in the Army stockpiles, but the idea of a rebel group having access to one of the most effective ways of neutralizing the heavy drone technology wasn’t one that particularly warmed Ardata’s heart.

“What was the other item?” Ardata asked quickly. This felt like the Sergeant was trying to ease her into the worst part.

“A helmsman interface.”

Ardata stared at him. “What? Sergeant… please tell me there’s a good reason why a helmsman interface was in some random fucking depot in the Wastes!” The helmsman interface… the one key component to being able to plug into most of the interstellar starships. The technology was typically tightly controlled by the Fleet.

Azdaja looked away, his face lined with nervous energy. “We’re still investigating that, actually. It appears that someone changed a shipping log and re-routed the interface during a routine transfer.”

_So the Fleet is as fucking porous and corrupt as ever._ “Sergeant, when was this going to be brought to my attention?”

“Apologies, ma’am,” Azdaja stammered out. “This was an internal Fleet Intelligence matter.”

She glared at him and brought her fist down on the desk quickly — Azdaja flinched. “Sergeant… the High Imperator is dead. The High Court’s flagship is molten wreckage somewhere on the planet. I am the ranking Fleet officer in this sector, and as such your _internal_ matters are my business as well. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. What do you want me to do, then?”

She looked off and drummed the desk absently. “Keep me informed and keep this quiet. I’m continually amazed at just how… free the Fleet is with information these days.” He shot him a glare to underscore the point and waited until he was out of the ready room before she pulled up the report on her own console.

The report listed _two_ of the rifles stolen, but specifically it looked as if one might’ve been taken before the actual raid. So someone working inside the Army or the Fleet had set up a transfer operation to steal some critical equipment, and then the depot had been raided. That implied at least two factions of rebels that, at the very least, weren’t talking to each other.

Ardata frowned to herself.

_I need to go talk to him, I guess._

* * *

Initiate Tagora Gorjek was the sole remaining nod to the original purpose of the Iustitia. After his disastrous failure as the Prosecutor for Mallek Adalov, there had been a general call to simply cull him along with anyone else who the failure could be pinned on. But the Empress had a rather detached attitude towards the specifics, and as the ranking officer Ardata had chosen to demote him, keep him around, and assign him to the clerical office in the Iustitia.

The job was mind-numbing, and Ardata reasoned that it would be torture for an up-and-coming Inquisitor like Gorjek had been. But that wasn’t the main reason that Ardata wanted him to remain alive.

She knew he’d, at the very least, been close to two of the teals who’d been involved in everything that had happened. It hadn’t taken a lot of investigating to figure out that the two teals who had been wrapped up in everything, shown up for the trial out of nowhere, and then disappeared might be a bit suspicious. Stelsa Sezyat and Tyzias Entykk had ended up on every Legiscorpus bulletin, Fleet Intelligence dispatch, and drone tasking list that it was possible to be on, but the pair had continued to remain elusive.

If Gorjek provided a way to close that loop off, then Ardata wanted him alive at least until it happened, no matter how much of a miserable failure he was.

He snapped to attention as soon as he saw her walk into the records office. In her limited interactions with him as commander of the Iustitia, Tagora had never seemed to be much for military formality. But he did have a keenly honed survival instinct, and keeping on her good side went a long way toward ensuring that continued survival.

“Fleet Commander Carmia — to what do I owe this honor?” _Laying it on a little bit thick there, Gorjek._

“I need your opinion on something.” She saw his face twist at this — he was terrified. “I need to get inside the heads of some rebels.” Another nervous twist of the mouth.

Tagora stammered out an answer. “Why… why would you come to me for that? I’m not an expert on counter-insurgency. I’m not even out in the field!”

“Oh, I know. But you know both Stelsa Sezyat and Tyzias Entykk.” She saw Tagora draw back. “I think it’s fairly obvious that they’re involved with the rebellion in some capacity. What I’m trying to determine is the extent of that capacity. And the extent of what help they might have inside the Fleet.” She looked directly at him and he went very pale.

“Look — I hope you’re not insinuating that _I_ had anything to do with anything involving those two or any of the rebels. They killed my kismesis!”

Ardata smiled. It was true enough — but the case of Tagora’s former kismesis, Galekh Xigisi, was hardly a simple one. He had been widely influential among the blue bloods, and Ardata always thought there was more to that whole story that she just didn’t know yet. Another possible angle to press Tagora on sometime, maybe.

“Indeed,” Ardata said calmly. “And I would never doubt your loyalty to the Empire. It just becomes difficult to stave off all the rest of the Legiscorpus and Fleet Intelligence after a while. You know how it is when they get an idea in their heads…”

Tagora swallowed heavily and nodded. “Of course, Fleet Commander. The truth is I don’t know much about Stelsa and Tyzias.” _He was lying._ “After all, I knew them in a strictly detached professional capacity.” _Still lying._ “But I might have some insights into how you might be able to help find them.” _There it was… the grain of truth buried in a pile of shit._

“Oh… please… do tell.” Ardata said, her voice low and dangerous. “And please… make it compelling. I wouldn’t want to have to go back on my promise to protect you from the elements inside the Fleet who’d rather see you dead after everything.”


	5. How Things Should've Been

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0821 local time (2321 AUT)

_It was a few kisses a half sweep ago. Why are you still thinking about this? Why right now?!_ Elwurd had found a quiet corner of the library in the Free Jade Cavern… not because she had any interest in reading the ever-growing library of books that were kept there, but because it was a quiet place to go and think. If she sat in the right place, no one could see her unless they were practically on top of her.

_You know… maybe I couldn’t save her if I’d stayed back._ Elwurd frowned and tucked her knees up toward her chin. Maybe that was true, or maybe she would’ve ended up dead as well.

Or maybe she’d just have to watch Skylla die up close.

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. _All you needed to do was make sure everyone got out right away. Or maybe if you’d stopped Galekh sooner — realized what he was doing._ The single ripple in the still pond, moving out and affecting even the far corners of the water. There were so many different things that so many people could’ve done differently that would’ve prevented the events that happened the way they did. So many ways that Skylla Koriga would still be alive.

She knew it wasn’t fair to blame herself for what had happened, but she did it anyway. It helped her to process the grief. Skylla’s death had been so senseless, and it was grounding to have someone to blame… even if that someone was herself.

gaegrl69nice began chatting with lyricalfirebrand at 0823 AST (2323 AUT)

Elwurd

what’s happening with you? you stiLL keeping yourseLf busy in the city?

Chixie

you know i am / lot of people / not a lot of time   
feeding / clothing / helping   
all that good stuff

Elwurd

nice. it’s boring here and i hate waiting around for something to happen.   
i miss you.

Chixie

i miss you too / but it’s only been a week   
have you been taking care of squirrelmom? / she’s fussy when i’m gone

Elwurd

yeah, she’s fine. a LittLe bit pissed that you’re not here, but what eLse is new?

Chixie

lol / yeah   
you get to spend more time with daraya? / she likes you / a lot

Elwurd

oh my fucking   
we’ve been proper moiraiLs for a Little whiLe   
you can’t just ask about my sex Life Like that!

Chixie

we’ve been moirails / for half a sweep   
so no / i definitely can   
but also / i didn’t say sex life / you did   
so / how’s your sex life with daraya?

Elwurd

oh shut up! it’s just   
sometimes a girL gets red feeLings and needs to… you know   
you know how it is

Chixie

i actually don’t / not exactly   
but i get your meaning   
good for you two!

Elwurd

she’s pitch with Lynera which i thought wouLd be awkward as fuck with her and bronya and aLL that but…   
actuaLLy turned out to be a compLete non-issue

so i guess that’s positive growth on my part. you shouLd be proud.

Chixie

oh i am proud / if you could see my face / you’d see me grinning at you

Elwurd

wish i couLd see your face actuaLLy.

Chixie

well / just you wait one second

The palmhusk made a soft chime and Elwurd opened the attachment that Chixie had just sent her — a photo of her smiling face against the backdrop of a city street lined with electric lights. Elwurd smiled and blushed a little to herself.

Elwurd

okay you got me. you’re stiLL as pretty as ever.

Chixie

thanks / we’re giving out food / in the open air market tonight   
distributing pamphlets / to those that’ll take them

Elwurd

be carefuL, okay?! i don’t want anything bad to happen to you!

Chixie

i’ll be careful / please try not to worry   
i’ll be back / in a couple cycles

love you / palemate

Elwurd

Love you too.

With a sigh, Elwurd put the palmhusk back away. She wished she could keep talking to Chixie, but she knew her not-that-new-anymore moirail had a lot going on. Elwurd tucked her knees back up against her chest and sighed again.

From nearby, she heard a quiet rustling noise — Elwurd turned just in time to see the white-furred form of Chixie’s lusus scampering at her. Elwurd grinned as the lusus jumped up on her shoulders and ran quickly around and down again. “Oh? What’s your deal?”

Following the lusus was the much _less_ welcome figure of Lynera Skalbi.

“Oh, it’s you,” Elwurd said dimly. “The whole point of my coming here was to be by myself.” Elwurd still had some complex feelings around Lynera. She didn’t have anything against her necessarily — they even shared a partner (albeit in two different quadrants) in Daraya. There was nothing overall that meant that Elwurd should have any problem with Lynera by herself. Still, Elwurd felt guarded around her for some reason.

“If you want to hide from me, pick somewhere other than the library. I would’ve checked her even without Squirrelmom’s help.” She walked over and sat down next to Elwurd. “It’s where I go when I don’t want the others to see me.”

Elwurd smiled. “So do you need something from me, specifically? Or are you trying to go where the others can’t see you?”

Lynera shrugged. Nearby, Squirrelmom was turning circles and chasing her fluffy tail excitedly. Elwurd looked over at Lynera and narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t gonna end up being some weird quadrant talk about Daraya, is it?”

Lynera smiled at that and shook her head. “Daraya’s old enough to make her own decisions, I think. And no, it has nothing to do with that.”

“Well, okay then,” Elwurd leaned back against the bookshelf that was acting as partial cover for her. “You want to talk or are you just here to be weirdly quiet while we sit together awkwardly?”

This time, Lynera didn’t answer right away — she just made a small _hmm_ noise and settled up against the other side of the corner of the bookshelf.

“Do you always feel like you need to fill the silence?” Lynera asked softly. “I’ve noticed that about you.”

The snappy response that Elwurd had on the tip of her tongue died and she sat with her mouth open. _Did she really just say that to me?_ “Excuse me?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Lynera said softly. “It’s just a thing. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something specific you really want to talk about but don’t.”

In an instant, Elwurd snapped back to a moment a half sweep ago. A quiet moment where she’d opened up to someone — talked about things she’d rather just as soon forget. Things she hadn’t told many people before. Chixie knew — knew about what had happened to her lusus. Knew about the truth behind the day the drones had come to press her into service as a Fleet officer. The other person who knew… they weren’t alive anymore. Elwurd bent her head, and she started to cry.

“I can go,” Lynera said quietly.

“No, it’s fine,” Elwurd replied, biting her lip and forcing the tears back. “Just a… a bad memory.” She waited until the shaking subsided and her breathing was even and measured again. “I was just thinking about someone I lost a little while ago.”

“Skylla.” It apparently didn’t take much investigation to figure out who Elwurd meant. She nodded. “I thought so. She seemed nice.”

“I don’t even know!” Elwurd gestured with her hands. “I mean… yes… but I talked to her a little bit and we kissed for a while. Okay… spent a day together too. But that doesn’t mean I knew her that well.”

“But you were hurt when she died.” Elwurd felt her insides clench up and she nodded. Lynera nodded in return. “Then she meant something to you. It’s okay to mourn someone you lost, even if you only knew them for a short time.”

Elwurd turned and squinted at Lynera. “When the fuck did you get so smart?” She heard Lynera laugh and felt a brush of air as she leaned back against the bookshelf. “I always thought you were just a stupid brown-noser who wanted to fuck Bronya really bad.”

“I _did_ want to fuck Bronya. But also I wanted to help the other jades… the people I saw as being a part of my group. Well now my group has expanded and changed a bit. I still want to help everyone. Because I care about them.”

“Even me?” Elwurd asked. “I was shitty to Bronya.”

“Even you,” Lynera replied. “Yes, you were quite mean to Bronya. But also it’s been quite a while now and Bronya has the right to speak on her own behalf.” Lynera shrugged and settled back against the bookshelf again — and Elwurd was getting the idea that even with the time she’d known Lynera now, she had badly misjudged the woman.

“Okay, that’s fair,” Elwurd said. “I guess… I think I was being kinda shitty to you for no good reason. Truth is, I felt bad about how things ended with Bronya. It was my fault, but that didn’t mean I want to _admit_ it was my fault!” _Careful with the self-reflection, it’s sharp._ “Point is — I saw how you felt about Bronya and how you acted and… maybe I got a little bit jealous. Because I figured if I had been more like that — more like you — then she wouldn’t have dumped me.”

“But you’re _not_ like me,” Lynera said quietly. “For good and for bad, you’re a unique person. There was a time — a long time — when I thought that I needed to be something specific to make Bronya happy. I was sure that if I could just change the right things, then she’d just kind of… know how I felt and reciprocate.”

Elwurd laughed. “Fuck… if only people could just _know_ how you feel about them.”

“Well, they can’t. And when I finally talked to Bronya… I realized that she felt much the same about me. Who knows how long for… maybe there’s a world out there where we got together a long time ago. Maybe there’s a world where we’ll be together for a long time. I hope I’m living in that world, but… I don’t know for sure. No one can ever know for sure.”

“Hell of a pep talk, Skalbi,” Elwurd chuckled.

“It’s not supposed to be a pep talk. It’s just the truth.” She sighed. “Sometimes things just happen the way they do… and sometimes we get to make choices. Even if those choices are utterly trivial… because sometimes they’re not.”

_She chose to stay behind with the detonator. So the rest of us could get away. Daraya told me she thought I was pretty._

“I miss Skylla,” Elwurd said at last. She frowned deeply and bent forward. “Every day I miss her and we weren’t even matesprits or anything. Just had one red day together in the pile. What’s that even mean?”

Lynera sighed. “It means whatever it meant to you. No one else gets to make that decision for you.”

They sat in silence for a while longer — a silence that had turned from uncomfortable to pleasant. Squirrelmom was frantically running up and down the length of the library, squeaking with excitement as she ran. All told, the silence moment lasted until there was a sharp knock on the doorframe of the library.

Elwurd looked up to see Bronya standing there. She had a shadowed look about her — her frown furrowed and her eyes hooded. “The raiding party is back, along with Stelsa and Tyzias. I’ve had a chance to speak to them all and…” She frowned. “We need to meet. All of us. Right now.”


	6. Matchlight

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1235 local time (0335 AUT)

“Okay, we’ve set up the distribution down at the other end of the market. Medical care is available as well. You get all that?” Chixie was trying to hold back the nervous energy she was feeling, but the combination of the value of what she was currently doing and the fact that it was something that the Empire wouldn’t look kindly on was making that fact difficult. Across from her, the short troll that everyone just called “Zebede” nodded excitedly.

“Yeah! We’re all set up like you asked.” He frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask where the supplies came from, yeah?”

Chixie smiled nervously and rubbed the back of her head. “I… let’s just call them a donation and leave it at that.”

Zebede shrugged. “Works for me. Folks have been hungry since the last drought and no one’s helping them. It’s… I don’t like it, but we’re all glad that you’re doing this.” He smiled at Chixie. “I don’t care what anyone says — you’re good trolls and you’re welcome in the lowblood district anytime.”

_As far as the Empire’s concerned, the city can sink or swim on their own, so that’s not surprising._ Chixie nodded without saying anything, waiting for Zebede to rush off to help organize the distribution of food and supplies in the open air market.

The market itself was a bit of a misnomer — it wasn’t really selling anything, because there wasn’t much to sell. Instead, it gave the lowblood residents of Hivefield a place to gather together and discuss what was happening in their lives. The existence of such a forum would likely call some negative attention from the Empire… if they actually knew about it. All the more reason to be carefully discreet about what the NADF was doing here.

Chixie shuffled through the packet of pamphlets she was holding. They were painfully vague about the details of what they promised or talked about, but they did give information about the anonymous Chittr account that Mallek had helped set up before he’d left the Free Jade Caverns for whatever happened to call out to him. A Chittr account that shared information about the Empire and news about what was really happening in the Empire. So far, it was mostly focused on Alternia, but the others had talked about starting to report news from the Colonies as well.

Looking around quickly, Chixie scanned the sky for any sign of Imperial drones. It was unlikely they’d actually bother to task drones to something this inconsequential, but it was hard to tell herself that after everything that had happened. A lot of that safety-in-obscurity relied on the NADF continuing to remain at least somewhat obscure. She wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep doing that.

At one point, Tyzias had suggested having Chixie continue the underground concerts — to try to rally people the way that Mallek had once been doing, but with a more solidly revolutionary message. She’d refused. She didn’t want to risk the possibility that the Empire would get wind and send drones to attack the concerts. She didn’t want that blood on her hands.

So she found a purpose in trying to help support the communities that were all suffering under Imperial rule. Not everyone had to fight in the same way, and Chixie was realizing that picking up a rifle and running into combat would be an approach that she was never going to be comfortable with.

Chixie crossed the market, walking quickly to the tables laden with pre-made meals and basic hygienic supplies. Zebede was standing behind the table, handing the parcels out to the trolls who showed up. Occasionally, one of them would approach with a scared look and ask if there was some way they could get help with something specific. Those looking for food for friends that couldn’t make it were directed to a package of additional supplies. The ones needing medical attention were sent into a small tent nearby where a teal doctor (someone named Pantal that Stelsa had known when they were both wigglers who was sympathetic to the NADF cause) was providing as much medical treatment as was possible under the circumstances.

“You need something?” Zebede asked, smiling at Chixie. “Folks are all really glad you’re out here. We know it’s… it’s a risk.”

She nodded. “Well, it’s the right thing to do. We’re just helping to connect all the people who already want to do it.”

“Sure, but who else has the guts to stand up and actually make this happen?”

Chixie furrowed her brow. “I don’t know — I think mostly we’re just the ones who got pushed into it. We don’t have much other choice.”

“Nonsense!” Zebede snapped at her. “I saw you on the video broadcast back a half-sweep ago — I was surprised they let you play that song, but I mean… you could’ve just kept your head down and maybe not have to go offworld at all…” His face changed — lines of worry crossed his expression. “It’s something a lot of us are worried about.”

Chixie wanted desperately to be able to say that she was surprised that the Empire was still running the recruitment drones with everything that was happening, but it would be a lie. If anything, the instability on the homeworld would only make the Empire more eager to recruit new potential soldiers for the ever- expanding domain of the Alternian Empire. It didn’t make any sense to Chixie, but that didn’t matter.

“I know,” she said softly. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

Zebede smiled, but his face was downcast. “It’s not your fault… what’s going on hasn’t left any of us much of a choice, has it?”

She shook her head. “No, I guess not.”

Leaving Zebede to keep up with the supply distribution, Chixie walked back to the medical tent that was set up a couple dozen yards away. She stopped at the flap to the tent and called inside — “Busy?”

The answering voice was a bit raspy, but pleasant overall — “No, come on in if you want.”

She pushed through the flap and into the dim interior of the tent, lit by a series of bulbs that were strung all along the perimeter of the tent’s roof. A large electric light was set up nearby for working with patients, but it was switched off. Sitting on a folding chair in the corner was their doctor — the teal-blood named Pantal. They had black hair pulled back into a braid, and a pair of short horns that ended in completely unassuming points. They were eating a piece of bread — chewing thoughtfully and scribbling a few notes in a pad they held in their lap.

They swallowed the bite of food they were on and looked up. “Hasn’t been too busy this morning. Couple of the regulars are back for follow-up, which is good.”

Chixie walked over to sit in the other folding chair nearby — usually reserved for patients. “That’s great!” She beamed at Pantal, who nodded but remained impassive.

“It is good. But also, we’ve got other problems.” They lifted their notes and scanned through. “The drought that’s been affecting the region is causing a lot of issues with local production, and the Empire’s been less than responsive lately for obvious reasons.”

Chixie frowned at them. “We’re at least aware of it,” she said quickly. “There’s not much we can do with our resources. We can only take so much from the Empire without risking getting our people killed.” She didn’t bother to add the next part — that their numbers were already precariously thin as they were. That every casualty would be something they would _feel._

“I know that,” Pantal replied softly, reaching up to tease at their braid absent-mindedly. “I’m not criticizing, just pointing out a fact. There’s another thing too…” they looked off and frowned. “The lack of food… it means sometimes the lusii are dying too, and that means we’ve got a lot more orphaned wigglers making their way into the cities. Hivefield is just one in the region — this is a big problem.”

With all her heart, Chixie wished she could do something more for them. For everyone that was suffering because of the Empire’s callousness. It was becoming nigh-impossible to accept that she was, in fact, limited in any number of ways. She sighed and leaned forward.

“I know. I’m so sorry… I can’t think of anything else to do.”

Pantal scooted their chair closer and smiled at Chixie. “You don’t have to. Just take the information back to your… your council or whatever you’re calling it. Take the information and do whatever you can with it.”

Chixie smiled. “Thanks. I really appreciate you doing all this.”

Pantal shrugged and waved their hand. “Are you kidding? If it weren’t for Stelsa’s decision to misfile a specific form I’d have been on my way to being a Fleet surgeon by now. Not exactly a life of independence and dignity.”

“Huh. I thought Stelsa had been pretty by-the-book until recently,” Chixie replied. She had gotten to know the two teals a bit better since the founding of the Free Jade Caverns, but there was still a lot about them that she simply didn’t know.

“Oh, I’m sure she came across like that,” Pantal replied. “But also she’s a genuinely good person. We knew each other a while back and I guess when she saw my name show up on the personnel requisition form, she just… she decided she’d help me out a little bit.”

That seemed to be the only way they could make a difference — little bits of change here and there. It was frustrating to not be able to really stand up against the Empire, but what were the options when their enemy could simply level entire cities. Chixie frowned deeply.

“You mind if I ask you something?” Pantal said quietly, picking at another piece of her food. “A little bit personal.”

“Okay,” Chixie said reluctantly. “I guess.”

“Are you okay?”

Chixie scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

Pantal nodded — “Sorry, that was vague. I mean, I know you were from Everdim and I know what happened to that city. From the time I’ve met you, so seem to be basically working non-stop with the outreach you do here. I’m not going to pretend I know what you feel like but… is there anything that I can do?”

She looked down at her hands, which she realized were tightly clenched against her knees. Everdim — the city where she’d grown up from a wiggler. The city where she’d played what felt like hundreds of gigs. The city where she’d met the first person who saw a different path forward for Alternia. The city where she’d finally escaped the man who made her life a living hell for so long.

“I guess I’m not sure how I feel about it,” she said. It was an honest answer, even if she didn’t particularly like it. “I lost friends but… it was so enormous I don’t even think I fully get what happened there. You ever feel like that?”

They nodded. “Of course. All the time. I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of or anything — at a certain point your brain just kinda can’t process it.”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” Chixie tried on a smile, but it felt fake. “In any cas—”

There was no time to acknowledge what was happening. Chixie felt herself tossed sideways and she hit the floor in a half-roll as the walls of the tent blew inward in ragged tatters. She was vaguely aware of Pantal falling back in their chair and narrowly avoiding smashing their head into the ground.

There had been noise too, but it hadn’t registered as anything other than a blast of static in her ears. Chixie was on the ground, struggling to stand. Her muscles didn’t want to cooperate.

Outside, she could see the smoke and fire starting on the other side of the market. She crawled over to where Pantal was lying on their back. They groaned, but they were able to move at least.

And the only thought that kept running through Chixie’s mind was _it’s all happening again._


	7. Setting the Stage

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Independent Fleet Frigate _Decorum_ \- 0401 AUT

For five cycles already, Mallek had been aboard that Frigate Decorum (a name he still couldn’t decide was serious or some kind of perverse joke), the premiere — and possibly only — ship of the Independent Fleet. He’d been given more-or-less free run of the ship, with the exception of certain sensitive areas. Also, they had made sure to confiscate his palmhusk and computer and kept a close watch on him. So he supposed his reputation had preceded him to some degree.

But Mallek didn’t intend to do anything to the ship’s systems — he was, after all, here of his own free will. Not because he wanted to play some kind of spy game either. That was more something that Stelsa or Tyzias would do, and he didn’t want to associate with them anymore. Being on the end of one ill-prepared, failed revolutionary movement was plenty. Mallek wanted to be a part of something that involved actual planning for once.

What Galekh had tried to do with the fuschia egg in the jade caverns had been almost suicidally stupid. Fortunately, his former associates had agreed wholeheartedly with this assessment, and Amisia Erdehn had specifically reached out to Mallek to ask him to come on board her brand-new flagship and discuss a few items of great importance.

Their discussions had been productive — specifically in terms of the best way to actually carry out the revolutionary action that everyone seemed to want so badly.

Five cycles of stimulating conversation, and once again Mallek was alone with his thoughts in the small hours. He was finding that he didn’t sleep much, especially with the schedule of the ship being set around a rotating Fleet schedule instead of anything fixed. Mostly Mallek kept thinking back on what had happened in the jade caverns.

* * *

“You see, it wasn’t my decision at all. What Galekh wanted to do — it contradicted every tenet of what our organization stands for,” Amisia had told him on the first cycle. They’d been sitting down to eat — the frigate was just large enough to have a standard gravity drive and it felt almost normal. The decor was tasteful and subdued, and a friendly rust blood had been serving them the entire time.

Mallek took a bite of the food and frowned. “I guess I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“It serves no one’s interests to put another fuschia in power,” she said softly, pushing her glasses up and nibbling at her own food thoughtfully. “What would that accomplish? To have a puppet royalty… it would just be a masquerade when the people deserve leadership that is truly accountable to their needs.”

“Leadership? So you don’t believe in the idea of self-governance?” Mallek narrowed his eyes. “No offense, but that sounds like the kind of shit that Galekh would say.”

Amisia laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh please. Galekh was an antiquated husk of a man. He believed in a world where he was the one at the helm instead of the Empress. A difference in degree rather than kind, you might say.”

Mallek shrugged and took another bite of the food — he doubted the Fleet’s provisions were this good. “I guess I’m still skeptical.”

“Of course. And you would be foolish not to be, given what happened. But we find it as regrettable as you do. Violence is to be used sparingly, and only when strictly necessary. Bear in mind that it wasn’t Galekh who called in the raid on your friends.”

Mallek quirked an eyebrow and stopped eating — this wasn’t something he’d heard before. “Oh?”

Amisia nodded, her face growing grim. “Yes. We have… sources. One of your companions sent a message to Galekh’s kismesis informing him of what happened. The kismesis… didn’t take it well. He chose to inform the Empire of the location of the rebels in that moment of anguish, resulting in the raid that got Skylla Koriga killed.”

Mallek frowned and stared down at his food, his appetite suddenly gone.

* * *

On one side of the room, there was a viewscreen that showed the view from outside the ship — the gentle swell of Alternia loomed large, painted in swaths of vivid color in the sunlight that seemed so much less harsh from up here in orbit. Mallek found himself briefly wondering what was happening down there — what the self-styled New Alternian Defense Force was doing. What had happened to the people that he used to know.

For a couple perigees, Mallek had tried to get in touch with old contacts from Everdim, hoping that at least a few of them had survived. After a while, it became nothing more than an exercise in reopening a wound again and again. A lot of people had managed to escape from Everdim when the bombing started… but a lot more hadn’t. Mallek wondered if his lusus had managed to get out. He chose to believe that he had. He would never know for sure one way or the other, so at least having some hope kept him from truly feeling the weight of the loss that bore down from all sides.

_Could I have stopped it?_

It was a ridiculous thing to even think. He’d done exactly what Polypa had suggested — what the High Imperator had wanted. It didn’t matter, because the city was attacked anyway. If he’d spoken up earlier, there wouldn’t have been a way to warn the people still in the Hidden City, and they would’ve all died. Saving _some_ was, objectively, better than saving _none._ Still, he saw the burning city in his dreams now — a place of fire so radiant it hurt to look at.

He tried not to sleep much.

* * *

One the second cycle, Amisia invited him to her ready room. The friendly rust blood from before — the one with the easygoing smile — had brought them something to drink and then politely left them to their own devices. Amisia sipped at the drink, then coughed and set it down. Mallek wondered how old she even was — she looked to be maybe nine sweeps, at most. She wouldn’t have even had to deal with going offworld yet.

Mallek declined the drink after one polite sip — he tried to avoid alcohol for the most part.

“Why did you come here?” Amisia asked plainly.

Mallek furrowed his brow. “Because you asked me to come? I don’t understand — you _invited_ me here.”

“Yes, but why did you accept? If anything, I would think you would be inclined not to after what happened with Galekh and your friends.”

Mallek shrugged. “ _Friends_ might be giving it a bit much credit. I mean, sure… Cirava and Elwurd but… they’re pretty committed to sticking around the NADF.”

“And you don’t agree with that?”

“I don’t know,” Mallek said, then paused. “I agree with the idea of the NADF, but I’ve already been in the position of having big ideas and no good way to carry them out. They’re either going to be useless or they’re going to get killed.”

Amisia leaned forward and smiled, her eyes squinting. “Well, you and I might agree on that more than you think. We should continue this conversation tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Mallek said with another shrug. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

He _did_ miss Cirava and Elwurd, but they had made it clear that they were going to keep throwing their lot in with the NADF and the people living in the Free Jade Caverns. Cirava seemed to genuinely want to be a part of what the NADF was doing — they’d quickly volunteered to help on the technical front wherever possible, picking up much of the work that Mallek had been doing. In a few perigees, they’d become almost as skilled as Mallek was. Another sweep and they’d be better than he ever was.

Elwurd, on the other hand, mostly seemed to want to disappear into herself. She refused to go into detail about how she felt, but the loss of the rust blood in the caverns had obviously shaken her deeply. Maybe they’d been a quadrant thing or something. Mallek didn’t see Elwurd taking that so seriously, but maybe there was something else he wasn’t seeing. It didn’t really matter — the bottom line was that she wasn’t going to be much of a fighter if she just wanted to sit around and cry all day.

Daraya had been cool before, but the more invested in the NADF she got the less pleasant she was to spend time around. He felt like he was being judged for a lack of willingness to commit fully to one specific course of action. It was the same with Chixie — with the added component of a lingering blame for what had happened in the caverns. Even though the NADF wouldn’t even exist without Galekh having brought them together, all that Chixie could focus on was the betrayal at the end.

Mallek thought she blamed him for that, at least a little bit. It might not be personal — she’d been pale with Elwurd and maybe some of that general malaise had caught on.

The others he could take or leave. The other jades were mostly stuck up or pretentious, and the two teals were basically the same. Everyone else that came and went… they were faces that Mallek barely even remembered, if he even recognized them in the first place. He could feel the spark that had sustained him leaving with every cycle he spent in the caverns.

* * *

On the third cycle, they were eating lunch together this time — lunch by the ship’s master schedule anyway. The friendly rust blood served them and asked how everything was. Mallek told him it was fine and waited politely for him to leave before he spoke up.

“So, what’s his deal?”

Amisia looked confused. “You mean Fozzer?”

“Is that his name? The rust blood who keeps acting like he’s your personal servant.”

She laughed at that and waved a hand. “Oh he’s not a _servant,_ that’s absurd. Fozzer was once a staunch believer in the supremacy of the Alternian Empire… but he was working in the fields when the city of Everdim was bombed.” Her face grew serious. “He spent perigees tracing back rumors until he confronted one of our agents. But all he wanted to do was to have some use in the rebellion — the real rebellion, not that play nonsense that the NADF engages in.”

Amisia shrugged. “He likes to do this — I’ve told him countless times that it’s unnecessary but he insists. It’s like having a personal valet… but one who wants to be rather than one forced into that station by circumstance. Who am I to begrudge someone their small eccentricities.”

“Uh… huh.” Mallek frowned and chewed on his food in silence for a while before he spoke up again. “Do you find you have a lot of those… low bloods who want to be a part of the cause.”

“Oh, of course. So many that see the value in having strong leadership.”

“This is gonna loop back to what you were saying about the NADF, isn’t it?” Mallek asked skeptically.

She smiled. “Oh, of course! You see, the NADF are idealists — they believe in a better world and will run at whatever shadows they see. We, on the other hand, are staunch realists. We see the need for a strong central committee to plan and execute those plans. Isn’t that what the NADF is attempting to build, after all?”

Mallek shrugged, but said nothing. He wasn’t sure _what_ the NADF was trying to build anymore. It had seemed like a good idea once, but he was growing increasingly skeptical of their ability to carry out plans.

“I guess… I’m not sure.”

Amisia nodded and turned back to her own food. “That is, at least, an honest answer.”

* * *

Mallek closed his eyes and tried very hard not to see the city. It was so bright that it overwhelmed him, and he didn’t want to look at it. He would, in fact, rather live in the shadows forever than to face that all-encompassing light. The light that consumed everything that he knew and replaced it with… with what?

With endless uncertainty? When he’d first learned of the revolutionary ideals of the Signless and Summoner, Mallek had been filled with hope. There had been people who had believed in a world where oppression based on the status of one’s birth wasn’t seen as the norm. A world where everyone was seen as fundamentally equal. That had been such an appealing notion — and Mallek had worked to hone his particular skills to something that could be used to carry out that notion.

It was a complete waste of time. Without the ability to effect real change in the world, what good was it to hack Trizza Tethis’ Chittr account to spout obviously-fake nonsense. It was nothing more than a simple joke that changed nothing. But what Amisia was building — what Galekh had once started before being swayed by his absurd plans involving the fuschia egg — that was something that had the potential to stand on its own. Of course it was a long and difficult road ahead, but better to travel that road with the full knowledge of what was ahead than to rely on naive optimism and literally nothing else.

* * *

On the fourth cycle, Mallek was invited to the bridge where Amisia sat in the Commander’s chair and smiled.

“I wanted to show you the heart of it all — the heart of the Independent Fleet’s first flagship. The first of many, we hope.”

Mallek looked around. “What was this? A private yacht?”

“Very astute. It was, once, a private yacht. It’s received substantial modifications and enhancements. There are, after all, people out there in the Colonies whose livelihood relies on the ability to outmaneuver and, if necessary, outgun the Fleet’s small ships.”

“Pirates. You mean pirates, right?”

“Oh, if you want to label them so dismissively,” Amisia said with a small smile. “You’d be surprised how much common ground we have with them. Their fight to remain independent in the space lanes is very reminiscent of our own fight for freedom on Alternia. One day I suppose we’ll have to talk to them about their role in liberated Alternia.”

“I guess,” Mallek said with a shrug. “I guess I never gave it much thought.”

“Of course. And why would you have? The point of all of this is to have leadership who thinks of these things.” She stopped and looked thoughtfully at Mallek. “You know… I think you might have the potential qualities we’re looking for in someone to join the committee. Maybe not right now… but someday. A great deal of potential.”

Mallek shook his head and kept looking around the bridge of the ship, fascinated with the way that it had been converted from pleasure craft to warship. “Thanks, I guess, but maybe not my speed exactly.”

“Suit yourself. But I think we’ll have other ways for you to help the cause, if you’re willing.”

“Sure,” Mallek said quickly. “I was mostly worried that you’d try to keep Galekh’s idiot plan going.”

“Oh, most assuredly not! The idea of another fuschia… it’s repulsive on the face of it!”

* * *

On the fifth cycle on the ship now, Mallek sat in the loungeplank by the viewscreen and watched Alternia slowly drift by in the distance. Without a doubt, there was something happening down there — some violence being done against the Alternian people.

And Amisia was right — the New Alternian Defense Force wasn’t able to stop it. They would try their best, but their best was woefully inadequate. Their best would get people killed.

At the door to Mallek’s quarters, there was a quick knock. He got up and crossed the room in a few steps, opening it to see Fozzer’s smiling face.

“The Commander wants to see you,” Fozzer said cheerily — he insisted on calling Amisia that. “She says that she has something you can do to help, if you’re willing.”

Mallek glanced back at the half-circle of Alternia that filled the viewscreen. At the world he’d lived his entire life on. The world he’d been willing to fight and die for. A world that, if the NADF kept going, was going to be embroiled in a war that would burn so many more cities to the ground.

“Okay,” Mallek said quickly. “Lead the way.”


	8. Vacillation

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1011 local time (0111 AUT)

They’d been sitting around the table in the cavern’s “war room” (a room that had been equipped with a large, round table, a set of chairs, and some rudimentary computer equipment) for an hour already, going over the findings from their respective missions. It was getting on Daraya’s nerves — they’d already been over everything they knew and she wanted to hit the ablution block already.

“I would like to review the issues again,” Bronya said in a voice that sounded a lot more nervous than she probably intended. “1 — there is a missing item from the Army depot, and 2 — the matter of this mysterious folder that was passed to Stelsa and Tyzias.”

Polypa rapped her knuckles on the table sharply. “The first item is a non-starter. The Army’s subject to all kinds of clerical errors, mismanagement, and corruption. Someone probably diverted the gun and sold it on the black market. Or It was never there to begin with.”

“Which is what concerns me,” Tyzias said under her breath. Polypa glared, but Tyzias only shrugged. “Look, you asked us to be the paranoid ones — we’re just doing our job. A rifle designed to take down drones specifically is out in the open… that’s a concern.”

“We don’t even have drones!” Polypa snapped back. “This is stupid and it’s a waste of time.”

“Fine,” Tyzias replied with a shrug. “But there’s still the _other_ matter to talk about. And I don’t think you can shrug that one off as easily.”

* * *

When the initial high of adrenaline had worn off and they’re ridden back into cover, that was when the shaking started. All of a sudden, Daraya’s stomach had been trying to violently overthrow itself — to disgorge everything she’d had to eat and then some.

She had never killed anyone before.

“Had never” — the past tense, now.

She asked to stop, but Polypa had said that they couldn’t risk it.

Instead, she threw up from the back of the lusus. Most of it managed to just hit the ground, anyway.

Polypa didn’t say anything about it.

* * *

“Oh, that’s completely in your domain,” Polypa said quietly. “Although I think it’s suspicious that this just drops into our lap so easily. Who is this contact you got it from?”

“We don’t know her name,” Tyzias replied. “We think she’s a low blood, but that’s not exactly a hard guess to make. No name, no idea how she has access to anything. But… I will say that I don’t think she’s as close to this as she makes out. I’d guess… she probably has a contact inside of the Fleet who fed her the information.” Daraya say the look that Polypa shot Tyzias — and it looked like the teal blood did too. “Which, yeah, it doesn’t escape me that this might be a plant to try to lead us off track or into a trap or something. Like I said, you’re asking us to be the paranoid ones.”

Bronya chimed in, her voice forcefully cheery. “Why don’t we ask Stelsa her opinion as well. I believe she had some thoughts on the matter?”

“Yes,” Stelsa said quickly, “I do. I’ve seen a few Fleet Intelligence and Alternian Intelligence Service documents as an auditerrorizer — it was one of our requirements in training, in case we had to investigate issues within the intelligence services. Fleet Intelligence has their own filing methods… which this document obviously did not conform to.”

Polypa _hmph_ ed but said nothing, so Stelsa continued. “But there is one specific detail - this was in a Legiscorpus filing folder. The Alternian Intelligence Service — the Empire’s master Intelligence bureau — uses those folders for their correspondence. I don’t know why — probably because they’re often stationed at or near Legiscorpus postings and the Legiscorpus has an abundance of extra stationery. Or maybe it was originally a way of concealing the true nature of the correspondence.” She shrugged.

“Anyway, that is a mark toward the document being genuine, in my opinion.”

Polypa spoke up again, glaring — “This is such a waste of time! Even if it’s genuine, we can’t confirm anything in it because of the cyphering. We should focus on our next tactical move first. We need to focus on our battle plan and less on arguing about fucking cardstock.”

Daraya bent her head, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Lynera looking at her with an expression of concern in her eyes. She waved an _I’m fine_ gesture and tried to smile. It felt forced.

* * *

“Daraya!” Daraya saw Lynera as soon as she stepped out of the war room after her first meeting with Bronya. “I… welcome back!”

She tried to smile at Lynera — wanted so badly to be happy to see her. Wanted to make some kind of sarcastic quip that might lead to something that was playfully antagonistic in a way that they both, apparently, seemed to enjoy. But she didn’t have it in her.

“Hey… Lynera…” Daraya trailed off and sighed. “Sorry… I’m tired. Just going to get food and then we’re going to be meeting again. Bronya wants you in there too.” She sighed.

It wasn’t Lynera’s fault what had happened, so it wasn’t fair to act like she’d done something wrong. “ _I_ want you in there too.”

She walked past Lynera toward the cavern’s dining block, trying to smile as she went. Trying to have the same energy she’d had before she went out.

_It’s so different than I thought it would be._ Snapping in an instant from alive to dead, without even a moment of consideration for it. It had been self defense — there was no question of what would’ve happened if she hadn’t pulled the trigger.

_Then why do I feel like this?_

* * *

“We gain nothing by 1 — Arguing, 2 — Fighting, and 3 — Bickering with each other,” Bronya said sharply — she had the ability to present a truly imposing presence when she wanted to. “You were asked to lead in your respective areas due to your expertise in those areas. Can you please provide your recommendations at this time?”

Polypa sighed. “Fine. I say we continue operational planning as per normal. We have an anti-drone weapon and limited ammunition. First order of business should be looking for someplace to secure additional ammo, possibly a second rifle.”

“Thank you,” Bronya said. “And you two?” She gestured at Tyzias and Stelsa, who looked at each other. They bent forward and had a quick, whispered conversation before Tyzias finally spoke up.

“We think that Cirava should try to decipher at least some of this document. If it’s genuine — and we believe it is — then we need to authenticate it and figure out what it means.”

“Thank you both,” Bronya said. “Can everyone please vote their agreement.”

In spite of Polypa’s grumbling and Tyzias’ skepticism, Daraya watched as everyone in the room voted unanimously to follow the respective recommendations of the section leaders. Bronya looked happy that order had been maintained, at least.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “I have recorded the meeting notes for later. Please go wash up and get some sleep. I know it’s been a hard few cycles for everyone.”

* * *

Inside the ablution block in her chambers, Daraya scrubbed off blood that wasn’t there. She’d been thirty yards away — far enough that the blood was more of an abstract concept than anything else. But it was an abstract concept that stuck with her — got inside of her head. It wouldn’t let her go.

She scrubbed harder, until the skin felt raw and tender. Finally, she stopped and stood in the water as it ran down over her — ran down over the shoulder that had braced the rifle and the hand that held the weapon steady. Down… dripping off the finger that pulled the trigger. The finger that had signaled the end of another person’s life.

Life was cheap on Alternia — she knew this as well as anyone — but it had never been cheap to _her._ She was apart from that — distant from the killing and culling that defined their existence.

Not anymore. That wasn’t something she would get to claim again.

Daraya sighed and turned the water off, stepping out of the ablution block and grabbing a towel from a nearby rack. She dried off quickly, her skin still prickling from scrubbing too hard.

The knocking at her door was soft — almost inaudible. If the water had still been running, she wouldn’t have heard it. Daraya walked over, still wrapped in the towel, and opened the door a crack. Lynera was standing there, wringing her hands.

“Can I come in?”

Daraya shrugged and stepped back, opening the door enough to admit her kismesis into the room. “Yeah, sure. I was just washing off. I’m… I don’t know how much fun I’m gonna be right now, okay?” She tried to smile once more and it died before she could even properly make the attempt. “I think I was mostly just gonna try to sleep.”

Lynera watched from a loungeplank as Daraya removed the towel and kept drying off. A half sweep ago, Daraya would’ve at least been self-conscious about this, if maybe not _embarrassed._ Now she didn’t even think twice about it.

“What happened?” Lynera asked quietly. “You’re acting different than when you went out.”

“Oh yeah?” Daray could hear the abrasive grit in her own response. “Am I seeming different? Because being out in the sun and heat and being shot at doesn’t have any effect on anyone, right?” She pulled on a pair of underwear and a bra, tossing the towel into the laundry pile that was accumulating in the corner. “Because you know so fucking much about all that, right?”

Lynera looked hurt, and Daraya felt herself choking inwardly. _No, I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck!_

But she didn’t say anything, just sat on the loungeplank and looked thoughtful. Daraya didn’t even bother to keep dressing — she wasn’t even sure why she’d put on underwear, given that she planned to immediately try to sleep for as long as physically possible. To try to put as much mental distance between her and what had happened as possible.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m just… never mind, okay? I’m sorry. Can we please just leave it at that?”

Lynera stood up and crossed the room, and Daraya felt her arms around her shoulders as she drew her into a wordless embrace.

“I just want to forget…” Daraya muttered softly, mostly to herself. She felt Lynera pull her in tighter and snuggle her head up against the side of her neck. _This is… different._

Daraya didn’t realize she was crying at first — the numb feeling that had been hovering around her all day was so complete that everything felt like it was coming in through a heavy filter. Her emotions were under a thick cloak and she couldn’t do anything to lift it.

She shut her eyes tightly and wished she was someone else.

Around her waist, she could feel Lynera’s hands softly rubbing the small of her back. Around the side, around her back, brushing softly over the grub scars on her side. A comforting, regular movement.

_This is different._

A shift of movement, and she felt the embrace slacken, but the hands stayed on her hips. Daraya kept her eyes closed.

Until she felt a soft, wet pressure on one of her grub scars — a familiar sensation in an unfamiliar place. Her eyes snapped open and she looked down to see Lynera kneeling in front of her, hands resting on her hips.

Kissing her grub scars.

Daraya’s face lit up in a jade flush and she almost pulled away… except that she very much didn’t _want_ to pull away. She watched as Lynera pressed her lips to the tender skin, then moved up to the next one and did the same.

“What… what are you doing?” She finally managed to ask. Lynera stopped immediately, and began to blush furiously.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I just thought… I didn’t think…”

“That feels… kinda red to me…” Daraya said quietly. “Don’t you have a matesprit?”

Lynera frowned and it looked like tears were in her own eyes. “I’m sorry! It’s just… I care about you. I know something happened and I know you’re hurting and I know you don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine. But… I thought… I don’t know!” She frowned. “I’ll stop.” She leaned her forehead against Daraya’s side, and Daraya swore she could feel the heat of her flushed cheeks up against her side. The feeling of the kisses pressed to her scars still lingered.

“No,” Daraya whispered. “I’d… I don’t want you to stop.”

Another kiss pressed into a tender scar — another sense that this was something maybe they shouldn’t be doing.

Another piece of confirmation that, in that moment, Daraya absolutely did not care.


	9. Narrative Control

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1321 local time (0421 AUT)

As soon as Cirava pulled up the broadcast — bounced off a dozen satellites in orbit on every open band — Bronya ran to get the others. Stelsa and Tyzias, still in the dining hall eating. Polypa, reading quietly in the library and Elwurd — also in the library, but pretending no one knew where she hid behind the bookshelf. Each of them was told to get upstairs to the war room _immediately._

Finally, down into the respite chambers. Lanque was half-asleep — currently on the day shifts for grub care — and woke with some reluctance at Bronya’s shouting. Lynera’s chamber was, typically, empty — she usually spent her time with either Bronya or Daraya.

Daraya’s chamber was last, Bronya pounded on the door — heard only a vague mumble from inside. She tried the handle and found it unlocked — opened the door.

Daraya coughed at the sight when she opened the door — at the two of them lying together on the floor. Blushing, Bronya closed the door halfway and called into the room.

“Get dressed and get up to the war room right now. This is important.”

“God, fucking knock next time!” Daraya shouted back. Bronya blushed deeper, wondering what they’d been doing that had made it so she didn’t hear her hitting the door. “We’ll be up in a second!”

Bronya closed the door all the way and ran back upstairs, taking the steps two-at-a-time until she finally got to the war room. Cirava was there, as were the others, and they looked nervous. They all looked nervous. Cirava was tapping their hand quickly on the console near the large projection screen at one end of the room.

“Broadcast hasn’t actually started yet, but it’s definitely him,” they said. “No idea what the fuck he’s doing on this thing.”

Bronya looked at the screen and, sure enough, the fact of Mallek Adalov was still staring out at her — at all of them.

“Well, he’s probably not captured by the Empire,” Tyzias said from one side of the room. “They wouldn’t bother to let him speak before they interrogated and executed him. Especially not after how things went the last time.”

Cirava frowned. “No luck on the transmission source — looks like it’s being bounced around a lot. Plus, Mallek wrote the code that does the back-trace. He’d know how to evade it.”

“If he’s even doing this of his own free will,” Elwurd spoke up. “This is fucked.”

As they were talking, Bronya heard the sound of running feet and turned to see a very disheveled Daraya and Lynera entering the war room. She nodded evenly at them, blushing only a little bit this time.

“What is it?” Daraya asked. “You said urgent—” she saw the face on the projection screen and stopped mid-sentence. “What the fuck is Mallek doing? Is this live? Is he trying to get through to us?”

“No,” Cirava interrupted. “He’s live, but it’s being broadcast one-way. To… well, to all of Alternia, it looks like. Chittr’s already blowing up about it. No one can figure out what’s going on.”

Bronya looked at the time on the screen — it was about to tick over to half past the hour. She watched the screen expectantly… but she wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Mallek’s voice was clear and crisp — obviously being picked up by a high quality microphone. “People of Alternia, as some of you are already aware, a bomb was detonated approximately one hour ago in the city of Hivefield, in the lowblood market.”

They all looked at each other. Elwurd’s face was pale — “That’s… that’s where Chixie was!” She grabbed her palmhusk and began frantically typing into it.

Mallek continued speaking. “Many of you do not understand this senseless act, but I am here to tell you that you do not have to. All you need to know is that your leaders have failed you.” He paused, dramatically, and narrowed his eyes. “I speak for the revolutionary arm of the New Alternian Defense Force. A half a sweep ago, we struck a blow to the heart of the Empire itself. Today, we have shown that nowhere is safe under Imperial rule. While we regret the need to attack civilians, we can assure everyone that the target was a military one — an agent of the Alternian Intelligence Service pretending to be an ally of the people.”

“What the _fuck?!_ ” Elwurd screamed at the projection. “This is fucking bullshit!” She tapped at the palmhusk. “Why won’t you fucking answer?!” It wasn’t directed at anyone who was there in the room.

“If you wish to throw off your chains, now is the time to do so. In the city of Hivefield, we will make our first stand. We will organize an independent, autonomous settlement. We defy the sovereignty of the Alternian Empire. We defy the authority of the Empress. We stand for the might of the united people of Alternia!”

With that, the transmission cut off, leaving only a picture of the badge of the NADF. The room was deadly silent, punctuated only by the sound of Elwurd softly sobbing and repeating the same thing to herself — “answer… please answer… please just pick up and answer…”

Bronya felt her head reeling — the sensation of pins and needles all up and down her body. The others were starting to move now — starting to talk — starting to understand what was happening. They were going to look to her for leadership. They were going to expect her to say something. They were going to need to know what to do next.

Bronya took two steps towards the table and passed out.

* * *

She woke up with her head propped in Lynera’s lap and a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. She was still in the war room, and the others were talking excitedly in the corner. Polypa and Tyzias, mostly, from what she could tell. Bronya groaned.

“Don’t move too much — you fainted,” Lynera said softly. Bronya’s head was throbbing and she felt a splitting pain behind her eyes. “You were out for a good ten minutes.”

“I’ve… I need to…” Bronya tried to sit up again and Lynera pressed her down firmly, settling her back into the soft fold of the skirted lap.

“No, you don’t. Tyzias and Polypa are discussing options right now and trying to get in touch with someone inside of Hivefield. Cirava is monitoring every Imperial channel we have access to. They’re all doing their part.”

“But… what about…” Bronya didn’t even bother to try to push herself up this time — Lynera’s face made it clear she wouldn’t accept it.

“No. Your job is to rest for now and my job is to make sure you rest. When’s the last time you actually slept more than a couple hours?” Bronya felt herself flushing deep green as she shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”

“There’s so much to do, all the time,” Bronya said quietly. “I owe you all so much. As the head of the cavern…”

Lynera shook her head. “You were the head of the Southern Caverns, which are now buried under rubble. These are the Free Jade Caverns, where we don’t have a single leader.”

Bronya lay still and looked up at the ceiling. As she lay there, she heard the sound of footsteps and saw Daraya’s face in the corner of her eye.

“I brought the water you asked for,” she said quickly. Bronya saw a look pass between the two of them that she couldn’t quite place — something meaningful. She’d wonder about it later. For now, Lynera handed her a glass of water and helped her sit up to drink it. She felt a bit better afterward, although she was still weak and shaking. She didn’t want to simply lie here — she wanted to stand up and help the people she cared about.

As if sensing the urge in her, Lynera pressed down on her shoulders. “No. I’m going to help you to your chambers and you’re going to sleep.”

* * *

When Lynera told her that she was going to help her to her chamber, she wasn’t expecting to be carried bodily down the stairs. With her arm over Lynera’s shoulder for support, Lynera carried her down the cavern stairs without complaint, arriving at her chamber door before setting her gently on her feet again.

Bronya leaned heavily against Lynera as she opened the door and staggered inside. The room was still swimming around her — and she was realizing that it wasn’t just one moment of shock that had done this, but perigees of moments. The constant stress of living in hiding — of sending out the people she cared about and hoping that they would come back alive. _And why would Mallek do this to us?!_ It didn’t make any sense.

“Maybe they… forced him…” Bronya muttered to herself. Lynera helped direct her forward, into the room.

“Okay, please… you can worry about it when you wake up after a good day’s sleep. Please, Bronya… please.” Lynera helped her across to the recupercoon and began to undress her. Bronya laughed — she was feeling lightheaded again.

“Hey, Lynera… you and Daraya, huh?” She saw Lynera’s face flush.

“That is… I would prefer not to discuss that at this time.”

“It’s okay…” Bronya muttered, starting to close her eyes. “I’m not jealous… Elwurd used to say that but… she was…” Bronya coughed and stood still as Lynera helped her out of her skirt. “She just said that cause 1 — I didn’t like how she was a jerk who always told me one thing and did another… and 2 — she was mean… but… I think she’s nicer now.”

Bronya shrugged, and lifted her arms for the shirt to come off. The chill of the room hit her skin and she shivered — she was still feeling out of it, as if all the fatigue and worry and stress was hitting her all at once. “I don’t think you or Daraya are jerks, so I’m not jealous… I wasn’t ever jealous…”

“I… didn’t think you were,” Lynera was bright green now. “This is perhaps not the appropriate time for this discussion at all.”

“Hmmmm…” Bronya could feel herself starting to drift already. She shrugged off her underwear quickly and leaned heavily against the recupercoon. “You know… you know I love you, right?”

Lynera bit her bottom lip quickly and looked off to the side. “Yes. I know you love me.” She leaned over and kissed Bronya quickly on the lips. “I love you too, Bronya.”

“Hey, Lynera…” Bronya was halfway into the sopor, letting herself sink down. It was warm and comfortable and it made her feel at home. “Can you sit with me for a little while? At least until I fall asleep. Please…” she could hear the pleading in her own voice at the end, but Lynera only smiled at her and nodded quickly.

“Of course, Bronya. I don’t mind at all.”

“I really love you…” she muttered under her breath. Her eyes closed, sinking into the sopor, and she could still feel the comforting presence beside her. “I think… you can have two matesprits if you care about two people that way…”

If Lynera responded to her, she didn’t hear it.

* * *

Above her, the clouds rolled and peeled away. She wondered if she would remember when she woke.

She reached instinctively to grab at her pajamas — a gesture of comfort for a sweep now — but the pajamas she wore were a brilliant gold. An unfamiliar gold.

She couldn’t tell if the shapes she was seeing form above her were from the past or the the future. In a strange way, she thought they might be a bit of both. She tried desperately to remember what she saw — to hold the images in her mind. So often when she woke, the visions were faint and faded into a dull, distant kind of memory. The kind of memory that was so often the nature of dreams themselves.

As she dreamed today, she wouldn’t walk the golden streets. Wouldn’t soar in the elegant spires that rose from everywhere to meet her.

She would watch the clouds.

And she would try to remember.


	10. Through the Gate

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1416 local time (0516 AUT)

Once they’d flown low enough, the dropship converted to atmospheric flight mode and the sliding doors on either side of the main cabin opened up, letting the whistling night wind rush through. Down below, the lights of the city glimmered in the darkness — the lights of another anonymous city.

Konyyl sat anxiously in her jumpseat, clinging to her auto-rifle and watching the lights wheel around as they circled the city. The others in the dropship — a mixture of rust and bronze bloods, plus a gold blood named Kuprum who literally never shut up about how much he wanted to be assigned to a warship instead of a ground unit. Konyyl was in charge of the unit by virtue of her position in the hemospectrum and experiences prior to joining the Army.

Originally, the unit had been preparing to deploy to a colony world that had been speaking out against the Empress after the death of the High Imperator. They were about to be on the receiving end of the Empress’ new philosophy — the idea that sending in ground troops to quell a local insurrection would be better than simply flattening the place from orbit. Konyyl wasn’t sure it mattered much, in the end. The dead were the dead, whether you killed them one at a time or all at once.

As the dropship flew lower, Konyyl could see the plume of smoke rising from the lowblood district where the bomb had gone off. At this point, it was the fires started by the explosion more than anything from the original explosion. Those fires glowed softly among the buildings, the distance from them concealing the true nature of what was happening below. Those fires were ripping through communal hives — destroying people’s lives.

Konyyl wasn’t sure how to feel about it all. She’d cared deeply about someone who’d been involved in the rebellion. She’d loved her, in her own way… and then that person had died. Azdaja told her she was being silly by worrying about it — that they were better off just keeping their heads down and not worrying about it.

If he would go with her, she thought that maybe she’d run — try to find the rebels, maybe. Or at least run away from the Empire. But he wouldn’t go with her, and she was dead.

_I love yyou._

“Sergeant, we’re two minutes out!” the rust-blood medic next to her shouted over the noise of the whining atmospheric engines. Marsti, Konyyl was pretty sure her name was. The Army had eased their former requirement on medics to allow rust and bronze bloods to enter the training. A sign that they expected to need more of them in the near future.

Konyyl nodded. “Two minutes!” she yelled to everyone in the dropship cabin. All at once, there was a flurry of activity as the soldiers checked their weapons, secured their gear, and got ready to drop. The rigger by the door prepared the long rope that would be used to rappel down into the city from a low hover — it was standard practice not to risk the vulnerable dropships by actually landing unless an area had been cleared.

Not because of the soldiers on board, but because of the ships. They were expensive.

Konyyl’s gut jumped as the dropship suddenly pulled down and screamed low over the rooftops of the hives. In the distance, she could see other dropships doing the same. Each unit would have their own assignment — their own piece of the city to secure and hold until the proper occupying force could land. She supposed that this was, in a way, a part of the Empress’ grand experiment — an experiment in using the masses of troops she had at her disposal to actually suppress an insurrection.

To Konyyl, it felt like trying to hold water in a perforated straining device.

The dropship pulled level, slowed, and stopped over one of the city blocks. The ship’s automated door guns would provide cover while they dropped, but it was still the most vulnerable the dropship could be outside of landing. Konyyl felt the anxiety jump — this was the same uneasy feeling she’d experienced so much lately. There was nothing honorable about this kind of combat — about running into a place that people lived and stomping them down for simply being in the wrong place when the rebels decided to set off a bomb.

Whatever the reason for it all, it didn’t matter in that moment.

The rigger tossed the drop lines out either side of the dropship cabin and slammed a button next to her, flooding the cabin with a green light. Konyyl unhitched her restraints and stood up, crouching to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling.

“Let’s go!” She took two steps to the door, hitched her drop harness onto the line, and jumped out.

The descent was a controlled freefall — the line guided her down and the harness kept her from falling. All around her, the night air whipped by, tinged with the smell of smoke.

In a moment, Konyyl’s boots hit the ground and she crouched low, quickly unhitching the harness and stepping to the side. Behind her, Marsti was already on the ground, unhitching her harness from the second drop line.

Konyyl had her auto-rifle up right away, quickly sweeping back and forth around the drop zone. She didn’t actually think that anyone would be there to attack them, but training wasn’t something you just switched off.

Two more soldiers landed on the ground behind her, then two more. As each of them hit the ground, they quickly detached from the drop line and took up their positions around the city streets, quickly forming a makeshift perimeter and falling instinctively into their roles.

Kuprum was the last off the lines, and he came up behind Konyyl and tapped her shoulder. “Last off,” he said quickly. She nodded and reached down to the radio transmitter attached to the side of her body armor.

“Everyone’s on the ground, get the fuck out of here.”

Above her, she heard the sound of the drop lines detaching from the dropship and falling through the air. They hit the ground behind her with a heavy thud, and then the engine noise of the dropship grew into a thick whine that slowly, then quickly, receded into the distance as the dropship pulled away to return to its base of operations for refueling.

It occurred to Konyyl that Kuprum was technically her second-in-command on this drop, in addition to being the communications specialist. She turned back to him. “Get everyone rallied and let’s get moving.”

* * *

They moved together, taking each corner as if a firefight might erupt at any moment. And, of course, nothing ever happened. Because this wasn’t an occupied enemy stronghold — it was a city full of regular Alternians who hadn’t even grown old enough to be pulled into offworld service yet.

Not many Alternians were out on the streets, even in the middle of the night… they knew better than to be out after an attack like that. They knew that the Empire would be responding. Most likely, they thought it would be a drone strike… but it didn’t really matter. The few stragglers they saw on the streets quickly scampered into their hives or nearby businesses. Konyyl ignored them and kept moving.

They covered their assigned section in twenty minutes, then stopped and set up a temporary perimeter around the square they were assigned to hold. On one side, a boarded-up storefront faced out into the square. It looked like a defensible position, at least.

“Get that open,” she called out to a pair of bronze bloods — they pulled out their entrenching tools and quickly ripped aside the boards, exposing the interior of the building behind a shattered glass pane. “Okay, everyone inside!”

Inside the building, Konyyl directed her squad to set up a position in the window to keep watch over the square. Two soldiers would rotate in every hour, and the rest would be on a rotating rest schedule until they were relieved. Given the scale of the operation to occupy Hivefield, that seemed like it could be a while.

* * *

The watch was set, and everyone else was settled in and snacking on field rations. It was a good idea — she had no idea when the next time they’d get a meal would be, and there was always the possibility that things would kick off without warning and they’d have to be on the move again. But for the moment, Konyyl sat and listened to the quiet sounds of the night outside. They were in a section of the city where the fires hadn’t reached yet, so there were no cries of fear and panic here.

But the smell of the smoke was an ever-present reminder of what had happened. They’d all seen the broadcast while they were waiting to be assigned to their dropships on the Iustitia — they’d all seen Mallek Adalov claim responsibility on behalf of the New Alternian Defense Force. They had moved from attacking military targets to simply bombing civilians.

The fact that this could easily be said of the Empire didn’t escape Konyyl. Maybe once she would’ve tried to make that distinction — tried desperately to cling to the idea that she wasn’t a part of something just as bad. Not anymore. There was no dignity or honor in what she was a part of now, nor in the other side that attacked their own people to make a point.

_But something feels wrong about this, doesn't it?_ Konyyl couldn’t put the thought out of her mind. She’d been there during the trial of Mallek the first time, on the Iustitia. She hadn’t witnessed much of it, but there was a bigger story there. And he’d claimed the NADF was responsible for that bombing. Or, at least, implied that they were responsible. Three coordinated attacks in such a short period of time.

Something still felt wrong.

“Hey, Sarge, you want some coffee?” Marsti was standing in front of her, holding two tin field cups of what was, presumably, coffee. “Power’s still on here, and I rigged up a heater for it.”

Konyyl smiled. “Sure thing, Specialist.” The rust blood leaned over and handed Konyyl a cup, then made a _do you mind?_ gesture and pointed at the spot next to Konyyl. “Sure, suit yourself.”

Marsti sat down next to Konyyl, her body armor shifting and bumping up against the wall. “Always try to keep the kit on me. You never know when you’re gonna be waiting around for a few hours and want something hot to drink.”

Konyyl laughed. “The endless innovation of the Alternian medics. Always doing more with less, right?”

Marsti shrugged. “Under-equipped and over-worked. That’s the medics’ motto.” She sipped at her own coffee slowly. “What do you make of all of this, Sarge?”

“Don’t know what you mean. We’re here to carry out our orders to help secure this city. Further information pending and all that.” Konyyl grunted to herself and took her first draft of the coffee — it was acidic and unpleasant, but better than nothing. “Settle in and enjoy the downtime, Specialist.”

She set down the mug and turned to see Marsti squinting at her.

“You don’t believe any of that, Sergeant,” she said quietly. Konyyl felt a flash of anger flare up inside her, but she grit her teeth and held back. “I’ve seen that look before. You remember that one bronze blood — the one they paraded around as some kind of make-believe hero?”

Konyyl’s throat suddenly felt very small and tight. “Skylla…”

Marsti nodded. “Yeah, that was it. You know I was at the Training Command when it was bombed.” Marsti leaned forward, clutching the cup. “Sarge, can you keep a secret? Just between you and I?”

She was barely able to get out the response. “Yes.”

“I know that the whole story Skylla told was a lie. I was there right after. I talked to her, and she seemed pretty level-headed. But she wasn’t some rip-roaring hero either. Just a normal woman who didn’t want to be there. Same as all of us.”

“I know,” Konyyl said softly. “I know… I know what kind of woman she was. But you’re wrong about part of that… she was a hero. Just not the kind the Empire cares about.”

Marsti studied her face for a moment, then her eyes grew wide and Konyyl knew that she was starting to put the pieces together. “Oh shit, Sarge! I’m so, so sorry. Forget I said anything about it.”

Konyyl reached out and patted Marsti’s knee. “Don’t worry about it. We only see what we see, right?” Marsti smiled and raised her cup in the air.

“Yes sir, Sarge.”

“Konyyl.” She peered into her own coffee cup, swirling the muddy brown liquid around. “If we’re gonna swap stories and sit around in this stinking hole while the Empire has us watch it burn to ash… at least call me something that means something to me.”

Marsti nodded and smiled. “Okay. Marsti, then. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing, Marsti.” Konyyl tried to smile, but it felt false. Instead, she brought the cup to her lips and drank deeply of the badly-made coffee. It had the aftertaste of soot.

It struck Konyyl as darkly appropriate.


	11. A Baited Hook

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1718 AUT

Ardata stood at the command console of the Isutitia’s bridge and glared down at the reports coming back from the teams that were now firmly entrenched on the ground. They’d had a good twelve hours to establish a beachhead in the city of Hivefield and cordon off the city. Working through the day with cloaks on, they’re managed to blockade all the major paths into and out of the city. Anti-aircraft units at the perimeter would be able to take out anything coming in by the air.

In the corner of the bridge, she had Tagora Gorjek seated quietly, waiting for her to get to speaking to him. Ardata was keenly aware of the parallels to her own experiences from not that long ago — from the time when the High Imperator had loomed over her and imposed his own will. But the High Imperator was dead and the Empress was becoming increasingly distant — she hadn’t even updated her Chittr to comment on the occupation of Hivefield.

There was a time when the idea of the Empress updating her social media to reflect on whether or not she might, say, decide to order the death of thousands would’ve been unthinkable. But times were changing, and Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty had a very particular way of approaching her rule. Far be it from Ardata to question it… lest she end up on the wrong end of that self-same Empress’ wrath.

Finally, satisfied that the situation on the ground was well-in-hand, Ardata turned to look directly at Tagora. The Initiate blanched and looked down at the ground. Ignoring his nervousness, Ardata spoke in a voice that carried easily across the bridge.

“Initiate, you’ve had some time to consider the matter. Do you have any additional insights you might care to share with us? Specifically with regards to the so-called _New Alternian Defense Force_ and their activities in the Southern Region.” Tagora smiled nervously and started to answer, but Ardata put up a hand to silence him. “Before you answer, keep in mind that I’ve already received a report from Watch Sergeant Knelex on behalf of Fleet Intelligence.”

“Well, I _might_ have some additional insight.” He was nervous, but he wasn’t technically _lying_ yet, as far as Ardata could tell. “If the Fleet Commander would care to indulge a humble member of the Legiscorpus a moment.”

Ardata rolled all three of her eyes. “Fine. Make it good and make it quick.”

“Mallek is lying about the bombing of the Iustitia — assuming that’s what he means by striking at the heart of the Empire. I was right there when it happened and I don’t think that the teals or any of their allies were able to put that together without the help of Marvus Xoloto.”

Ardata glared. “Watch what you say, Initiate. You know the official line on Subjugglator Xoloto — he was the last of the High Court still based near Alternia. Cut down by the vicious attack of the terrorists who targeted him, the High Imperator, and the Empress herself.” _But I know that’s a load of hoofbeast shit. Marvus Xoloto was running something all along — I’d put everything I have on it. Which means that Tagora is telling the truth… at least about this._

She took a step closer to Tagora and lowered her voice. “I’d be _very_ careful about what you say and who you say it to. But if _you_ had to guess what’s going on, what would your theory be?”

Tagora glanced around nervously, as if he were trying to gauge exactly how much to say. “Well… _my_ personal theory is that there’s probably another group out there that’s trying to hide itself.”

_Two groups… one well-organized enough to execute a bombing and broadcast a wide-band communication. And one that’s getting blamed for doing those things._

A deep frown crossed Ardata’s face. She waved to Tagora. “You’re dismissed, Initiate Gorjek. Go back to records or whatever the fuck it is you do in your time off.”

As soon as Tagora left the bridge, Ardata pulled up the communications menu on the console.

arachnidsLair opened a SECURE_COM with daja9001 at 1726 AUT

Ardata

watch sergeant, iii’ve got a questiiion for you.

Azdaja

||| Yes, Fleet Commander. |||

Ardata

how much has fleet iiintelliiigence been watchiiing rebel actiiiviiity?   
not just iiin the southern regiiion but throughout alterniiia.   
iiin the coloniiies, even.

Azdaja

||| Honestly, not nearly as well as they should’ve been. The attack a half sweep ago threw everyone off. |||

Ardata

of course iiit diiid. what iii’m mostly wonderiiing iiis about rumors.

Azdaja

||| Rumors? I’m sorry, Fleet Commander, but what do you mean? |||

Ardata

iii mean — have you heard anythiiing about leaks iiin the fleet?

Azdaja

||| Fleet Commander, I think it would be beneficial if we stopped this conversation. |||

Ardata growled and slammed a fist down on the console as the communication channel cut off. So he obviously did know something but he wasn’t going to say it. Because Fleet Intelligence, for all of its pretense, was as porous an organization as ever. There was no way that the rebels could do half of what they’d accomplished without help from inside the Alternian Empire.

_And what surprise is that, after things like what you’ve seen?_ She scowled and shook her head.

“I’ll be in my quarters if I’m needed,” Ardata snapped to the jade blood who was serving as the officer-on-deck. “You’ve got the bridge… don’t fucking bother me.” She turned and stalked away, still muttering to herself.

* * *

Ardata had just settled into the plush chair behind her desk when she heard a hesitant knock at the door to her quarters. Scowling, Ardata stood up and walked to the door, hesitating before opening it.

“Who is it?”

From the other side, a familiar voice — “It’s Azdaja, ma’am. We need to talk.”

She opened the door a crack and saw Azdaja on the other side, his face lined with a nervous energy she didn’t like seeing. “What is it, Watch Sergeant?”

“I can’t be seen talking to you, but we need to talk. Right now.”

She stepped back and let him in — he quickly pushed past and let her shut the door after him quickly. “Fine. Come in and say your piece. Do you want a drink?” She walked to the cabinet behind her desk and took out a bottle of liquor. Azdaja shook his head and Ardata shrugged, popping the top and taking a swig directly from the bottle. When she finished, she thumped the bottle down on the desk and shrugged. “Suit yourself. What’s the big deal you couldn’t say over secure com?”

He looked around again, as if there were someone watching him even in what was possibly the most private place on the entire ship.

“Watch Sergeant, there isn’t going to be anyone looking over your shoulder here. Trust me.” She reached down and took another sip of the liquor. “What was it you needed to talk to me about.”

“There’s a coup brewing inside the Fleet… maybe the Army too. But definitely the Fleet.”

Ardata stared at him, disbelieving. “What? Sergeant, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You don’t think that a couple of rogue teal bloods and their friends orchestrated all of this, do you? Coordinated attacks against multiple targets — against the fucking High Court.”

Ardata narrowed her eyes — she hadn’t forgotten. “What’s your point? That the rebels have infiltrated our ranks?”

“More than that… I think there’s a group of high bloods that’re trying to take over, and they’re trying to use whatever the fuck was happening a half sweep ago as a scapegoat.” Azdaja looked terrified. “I don’t know who’s involved. I don’t know how many people know about it. I just have a pretty good idea that you’re not part of it.”

“And why is that?” Ardata asked, her voice low… dangerous. She didn’t like how this was sounding, and she was falling back into imposing over him to compensate. Azdaja didn’t seem to notice.

“Because I’m pretty sure they’re trying to steal a warship… and if you were working for them, then they’d already have one.”

She laughed at him — laughed right in his face. The whole idea was an utterly ridiculous one, and the idea that the rebels — or even a rogue element inside the Fleet — was going to steal a warship was utterly ridiculous. They would need personnel… crew… pilots… and, if they really wanted it to be anything other than a drifting pile of metal, a—

“A helmsman interface,” Ardata said under her breath. “The missing helmsman interface from the Army depot.”

Azdaja nodded — he’d come to the exact same conclusion.

“Sergeant, that is a heavily controlled item. I don’t think you ever answered me before — how did it even end up in an Army depot in the Southern Wastes.”

Azdaja was pacing the room now, walking back and forth and frowning deeply to himself. “It wasn’t an accident, obviously. I did some digging and the transit records are all wiped clean. Someone who knew what they were doing went through those records… they lead a trail that just kind of fades into nothing. And then it picks back up when… someone takes the helmsman interface.”

“This hardly fills me with confidence.” Ardata glared and grabbed the liquor bottle. “What are you suggesting we even _do?_ ”

“Press Initiate Gorjek for information,” Azdaja said quietly. “He knows substantially more than he’s letting on.”

“I know that already,” Ardata said with a shake of her head. “Get the fuck out of here already. Come back when you have something more substantial.” Azdaja nodded and began to leave, but Ardata interrupted before he could make it to the door. “Wait. Sergeant — don’t stop digging, but stay quiet about this. If half of what you’re saying is true, then we’re both watching our backs.”

He walked out of the room without another word, and Ardata sat back down at the desk and grabbed the liquor. She was about to down most of the rest of the bottle when she stopped herself.

_What the hell are you even doing? What are you doing up here?_ She had no idea what was happening — no idea how she was going to move forward. She’d suddenly found herself in command of something that was rapidly spiraling out of control. Having people plotting in the shadows behind her wasn’t helping anything. Tagora’s cagey nonsense and Azdaja’s ignorance was going to get someone killed. Was going to get a lot of people killed.

_Hasn’t there been enough of that already?!_

Glaring to herself, she got up and walked out of her quarters, not bothering to contact the bridge to let them know where she was going.

* * *

Tagora was still there in the records department, looking tired and bored as he tapped absentmindedly on his palmhusk. As soon as he saw Ardata walk into the entrance, he dropped the palmhusk and almost fell over backwards in his chair.

“Fleet Commander! I didn’t expect—”

“Cut the shit, Initiate. I’m here to talk to you in private and I want you to stop trying to lie to me.” She glared at him. “Do you understand? To be clear… I know that you’re not being forthright with me, and if I continue then I’m going to make sure you’re put out an airlock.”

Tagora swallowed heavily. “I understand, Fleet Commander.”

“Good. So… let’s talk.”


	12. A Plan for Re-Introduction

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0321 local time (1821 AUT)

Sometimes, in the excitement of the moment with Tyzias, or in the pleasant haze of afterglow when they were done, Stelsa was able to forget who she was. Never for more than an hour or two at a time, but it was still a nice experience. She was in one of those moments now, lying on the longueplank with a snoring Tyzias on her chest. She was fairly sure that Tyzias was, in fact, drooling on her a little bit. It didn’t matter, because she was happy in that moment.

In that moment, she wasn’t herself. Wasn’t the person who’d gone into Auditerrorizer training. Wasn’t the person who’d been assigned to help investigate a bombing and ended up drawn into a rebellion. Wasn’t the person who’d had to learn to put aside being soft and vulnerable in order to ensure her continued survival. Wasn’t the person who carried Galekh Xigisi’s old pistol with her everywhere she went.

Stelsa sighed and shifted, putting an arm up around Tyzias and tracing down along her back, letting her fingers drift down along the spine, then over to the grub scars on her side. Along to that little bit of fat that Tyzias was so self-conscious about, but that Stelsa found adorable. Down to the hips that had so recently been rocking up against hers. Stelsa’s face got hot at that particular memory, and she smiled to herself self-consciously.

She wasn’t herself, because right now she didn’t have to think about anything that had been happening in the past cycle. No matter how much you wanted to obsess over a problem until you found a solution, eventually you just had to accept that you also needed time to recover. Time to sleep. Time to spend time with the people that made your life something other than an unrelenting nightmare of paranoia and fear.

Stelsa’s hand ran back up Tyzias’ back — up the nape of her neck and into the hair that she still kept short. At least she washed it regularly now. Stelsa smirked — that had been such a fight back when they’d first gotten together. Although she was sure that the whole “it’s naturally self-cleaning” thing had been made up on the spot. She teased her fingers through the messy waves of black, brushing up against the base of Tyzias’ horns. Tyzias snorted a little in her sleep and settled down against Stelsa’s chest.

She was feeling more like herself as the haze of half-sleep drifted away, and Stelsa wasn’t sure she wanted to feel that way just yet. All the hard edges of worry were creeping back in, poking at her vulnerable sense of happiness. She was thinking more and more about the pistol on the dresser. About being back in the field.

Wondering about the cyphered documents that they’d found, and their mysterious contact.

Worrying about Chixie and what might’ve happened to her. They’d been able to confirm that an attack had occurred and the Empire had been sending a lot of troops into the city, but beyond that it was mostly a black hole. Chixie hadn’t reached out yet, and the Empire seemed to be jamming coms in and out of the city. After a long debate, they’d made the decision to send a scouting party in when it got dark again. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it almost never was.

With a sigh, Stelsa shifted Tyzias’ weight on top of her and tried to settle back into the way she’d felt a few minutes ago. More than anything, she wanted to just be able to live inside of those memories — to think back on those moments of physical and emotional connection when everything felt right. She almost felt silly for focusing so much on something that felt so ephemeral… so trivial. But it gave her something to ground herself in — a touchstone in a dark place that kept her sane.

From the desk, her palmhusk buzzed insistently. Stelsa ignored it.

She tucked her chin down into Tyzias’ hair and closed her eyes. Every day that went by, she was so grateful for this woman. So grateful to have someone who was there to support her — to keep her from drifting.

Once upon a time, she’d been wondering about where she would go. As a teal, she had options… and none of them were very good. There was always the tedious grind of administration, but what could she do from that vantage point but silently watch as the Empire kept chewing up the people she loved? There were the Inquisitors and the Regulators — the arm and the hand that kept the population in line. Then there was the Alternian Intelligence Service… the shadowy network of Alternians whose identities and purpose alike remained cloaked in shadow.

When she started as an Initiate, she was approached by one of them. A troll who never gave her his name — and he asked a lot of very specific questions and had a lot of very specific information about her. She’d done well in her examinations, and he’d seemed very pleased with her analytical and interrogative scores in particular. She could, he said, be an excellent Auditerrorizer. Or, he said, she could join the AIS… and make a real difference.

Something about the way he’d said it had chilled Stelsa to the bone. She’d politely declined and gone back to her studies. And she’d never heard from any more nameless trolls who spoke in sentences that hid their true meaning.

From the desk, next to the pistol, the palmhusk buzzed again, rattling around. Stelsa ignored it.

The AIS memo… the plain Legiscorpus folder that they used for everything. The contact who wouldn’t say how she was able to get ahold of the information. The missing anti-material rifle. The bombing. The invasion of Hivefield. All of it felt like it tied together somehow, but she wasn’t sure how to put the pieces together yet. She and Tyzias were still learning the spycraft game, and it was a hard one to master without much of a network.

They were supposed to be building that network, starting in Hivefield. Having at least one contact was a start, and they’d been hopeful that it would open things up to others who were willing to go against the Empire because it was the right thing to do. But now that mission seemed like it was going to be a bust, given that the city was now under Imperial control. The Empress might not be as heavy-handed as the High Imperator had been, but Stelsa wasn’t under any illusions that it made her any less dangerous.

Once more, the palmhusk buzzed.

Stelsa yelled — “Oh my fucking god!”

Tyzias woke with a start, quickly squeezing Stelsa and pulling her head up to look around frantically. “What? What happened? What’s happening?”

“I’m sorry, Zizi,” Stelsa said softly. “It’s just the palmhusk kept going off. I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“Mmm… ‘s okay…” Tyzias muttered sleepily as she put her head back down against Stelsa’s chest. “Was just having a nice dream about a beautiful lady.”

“Did this lady happen to have rounded horns and a short haircut?”

“She did, as a matter of fact.” Tyzias smiled and closed her eyes.

“That sounds very nice.” Stelsa smiled at her Matesprit and leaned over to kiss her between the horns.

“We were fucking,” Tyzias said with a snort.

Stelsa sighed. “Yes, I had gathered that from context. Go back to sleep, darling.”

The palmhusk buzzed again. This time, Tyzias opened her eyes and craned her neck toward the desk. “You know what, can you go silence that fucking thing? That is actually pretty annoying and we’ve gotta get up in a couple hours if you still wanna tag along on the scouting thing.”

“I do,” Stelsa responded. Carefully, she slipped out from under Tyzias and sat up on the longueplank. “I’ll see what it’s about and then turn it off for a little while. I think we deserve a bit of a break, don’t you?”

“Mmm…” Tyzias responded. Stelsa stood up and crossed the room to the desk, her bare feet making almost no sound on the stone floor. She grabbed the palmhusk, fully intending to simply silence it and go back to lying down with her matesprit.

But then she saw who the messages were from.

“What the fuck?” she murmured angrily to herself. On the screen, the name burning out at her like an angry spirit, was the name of Tagora Gorjek. “I told him never to…”

“What is it?” Tyzias asked from the longueplank, her voice filling with worry. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know…” Stelsa muttered as she unlocked the palmhusk. It wasn’t just a standard message, either.

bettercallgorgor started a SECURE_COM with s_sezyat at 0332 AST (1832 AUT)

Tagora

I know you said not to contact you but this is important. *_________

Tagora

I’m so sorry for what I did and there’s nothing I can possibly say to make it up to anyone but there’s something happening and you need to know about it. *_________

Tagora

I don’t know who else to tell. *_________

Stelsa stood and stared down at the screen — at the teal boxes arrayed on the white background of her messaging app. She could already feel the shaking starting in her hands and moving up her arms. Her breath was halting in her chest and her blood pusher was starting to race.

“There’s no fucking way…” she muttered and turned to Tyzias, who was sitting up and frowning now.

“What is it? What happened?”

But Stelsa couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, she reached down a began to type.

Stelsa

YOU GOT SKYLLA KILLED   
YOU ALMOST GOT ALL OF US KILLED   
FOR WHAT?   
BECAUSE YOUR BASTARD OF A KISMESIS GOT SHOT?

YOU HAVE ONE REPLY TO CONVINCE ME

Tagora

The movement Galekh started is still around and they’re doing something. They’re the ones who put out that broadcast. I’m sure of it. *_________

Stelsa let the phone drop to her side and looked up at the ceiling. She groaned and closed her eyes. _Why the fuck did he have to be like this?_ She wished for a world in which Tagora Gorjek hadn’t been such a petulant, short-sighted fool. A world where he hadn’t decided that calling in the Alternian Army was an appropriate response to hearing about Galekh’s death.

“What is it?” Tyzias asked again. Stelsa opened her eyes, but she kept staring at the ceiling.

“Tagora just sent me a secure com.”

Tyzias was on her feet in an instant, her fists clenched at her side. “What the fuck?! What the hell does that piece of shit want?!”

“He… he says that he knows who’s behind the broadcast. That he knows more about what’s going on.”

Even without looking, Stelsa could _feel_ the way that Tyzias deflated as soon as she said it. There was a soft noise of air escaping from the longueplank cushions as Tyzias sat back down.

“Oh…” her voice was distant and quiet.

Stelsa

FOR THE RECORD I FUCKING DESPISE YOU, GORJEK   
BUT KEEP TALKING

Tagora

There’s a lot happening here. Ardata Carmia is basically in charge of the orbital fleet, and the Iustitia is an assault carrier now. She doesn’t think that Mallek was behind the bombing and she doesn’t think that the NADF is the force that it’s being painted to be. *_________

Stelsa

AND WHY DOESN’T SHE THINK THAT?

Tagora

Because I fucking told her, okay? Because I’m a fucking coward and I told her most of what I know about Galekh and his whole deal. *_________

Stelsa

LEAVING OUT THE PART ABOUT YOUR INVOLVEMENT, I’M SURE   
BECAUSE YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD

Tagora

Because I’m not suicidal! I told her I suspected something and only found out after his death how much he was involved in. I wasn’t specific as to the details. *_________

Stelsa

SO YOU’LL SACRIFICE WHATEVER HE BELIEVED IN TO SAVE YOUR OWN SKIN?

Tagora

Even you don’t believe that. You know he was killed for a reason.   
So do I… it just… took me a while to accept it. *_________

Stelsa

SO WHAT? AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR YOU NOW?

Tagora

No! That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying there’s something happening and I’m already basically fucking dead, but maybe the rest of your aren’t! *_________

Stelsa

FINE   
WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

Tagora

The raid on the Army depot — there were a couple things taken of note. One was these two anti-drone rifles, but I guess one was taken by someone with inside access.

_So it wasn’t just a clerical error or anything like that._

Stelsa

OKAY, WHAT ELSE?

Tagora

I’m not a hundred percent sure but from what I was able to tease out… a helmsman interface. *_________

Stelsa could feel that chill getting worse — the feeling that suddenly things were spiraling badly out of control.

“Zizi… you need to come see this…”

Tyzias stood up and in a second she was looking around Stelsa’s shoulder at the words on the screen. Stelsa heard the low exhale of breath as she read through.

“A helmsman interface…” Tyzias sounded worried. “What was it even doing on planet?”

Stelsa

WHAT WAS ONE OF THOSE ON PLANET FOR?   
THE FLEET CONTROLS THOSE VERY TIGHTLY!

Tagora

Yeah, well… apparently not tightly enough. And I’m assuming that you didn’t take it. Don’t say anything — I know you don’t trust me, but I’m also not stupid. *_________

Whatever Galekh started, it’s got deep roots in the Fleet and the Army. Commander Carmia is terrified of who might be involved, even if she tries to hide it. *_________

Stelsa

SO WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?

FORGIVENESS? TO BE WELCOMED INTO THE NADF?   
YOU KNOW THAT ISN’T GOING TO HAPPEN

Tagora

Is someone taking care of my lusus? *_________

Stelsa

WHAT THE FUCK?   
THAT’S YOUR BIG RESPONSE?   
FUCK YOU, I’M DONE WITH YOU

Tagora

Wait   
I just want to know that he’s okay.   
I cared about Galekh even if he turned out to be a piece of shit.   
And when I saw that he was dead I… I lost it a little bit.   
How would you feel if someone had just killed Tyzias? *_________

She frowned and half-turned to look at Tyzias, who was wearing an identical frown on her face.

“Don’t fall for it, Stels,” she said softly. “It’s just bait.”

But somehow, Stelsa didn’t think it was. She reached across with her free hand and rubbed Tyzias’ stomach absently. The worst part was, she felt like she actually _could_ understand.

Stelsa

YOUR LUSUS IS FINE   
HE’S WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES A LOT ABOUT HIM

Tagora

Good.   
So, here’s the deal… *_________

I’ll keep feeding you information on what’s going on. And I know you have no way of trusting that I’m not just trying to mislead you so feel free to disregard it. But I’ll keep doing that and I won’t ask for anything in return until someone finds out. *_________

At that point… well, I don’t expect I’ll have to worry about much of anything for very long. *_________

Stelsa

WHY? WHY DO ANY OF THIS THEN?

Tagora

Because I genuinely am sorry, and I don’t know any other way to make things right. *_________

Stelsa

THIS WON’T MAKE THINGS RIGHT

Tagora

Maybe not. But hopefully it’ll help keep you alive. *_________

“Stels, we can’t trust him,” Tyzias said. “You know we can’t trust him, right?”

Stelsa let out a heavy sigh — a sigh that carried the weight of the world on it. “I know that. I know he’s a piece of shit. I know he’s a self-interested, self-absorbed pile of garbage who almost got all of us killed… but…” She grit her teeth. “Something tells me he’s not lying.”

Tyzias was quiet for a minute — her breathing soft and even against the hand that Stelsa still had on her stomach. “I don’t trust him… but I do trust you. There’s one thing that he could help with, maybe.”

Stelsa nodded — she knew exactly what Tyzias was talking about.

Stelsa

OKAY, TAGORA, YOU WANT TO HELP US?   
FIND THIS OUT FOR ME

FIND OUT WHAT OPERATION WATCHWORD IS


	13. Tagging Along

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Southern Wastes - 0601 local time (2101 AUT)

Elwurd couldn’t help but worrying. It was coming up on a full cycle since she’d heard anything from Chixie, and now she was riding straight into unknown danger to find her. This was, she reflected, an almost suicidally stupid idea. Elwurd was never a soldier — had gone out of her way to never have to be a soldier — but here she was, hunched over on her deercat and wearing the same kit as all the rest. She was outfitted with a thick shell of chitin body armor and wearing a thick traveling cloak — as much to conceal her identity as to protect her if they were still out in the open when the sun came up. Over her shoulder, she had a short-barreled Army carbine.

Daraya had showed her how to use the carbine, and Elwurd couldn’t help but notice how her sometimes-matesprit had changed. Not just in the last half-sweep, but in the past cycle.

_Because killing someone changes you, sometimes._ She hadn’t wanted to kill Galekh either, but she didn’t see how she’d had any choice in the matter. The spot still ached where he’d shot her, especially when the weather turned cold, and it was a constant reminder that she’d been working for someone who had been willing to step on anyone who got in his way in service of his own selfish goals.

She saw his fingerprints all over what was happening now. Maybe not his specifically — Galekh was definitely dead — but the people who’d been working with him. They all knew that whatever had been started wasn’t just going to end that easily — there were too many people involved. At the same time, Elwurd had hoped that maybe the people who’d formerly been following Galekh might come on board with the general idea of an Alternian rebellion. Instead, it seemed like someone else was heading things up.

Putting it as far from her mind as she could, Elwurd dug her palmhusk out of the pouch on the front of her body armor and checked once again to see if Chixie had responded.

gaegrl69nice began chatting with lyricalfirebrand at 1324 AST (0424 AUT)

Eldwurd

chixie! what’s going on down there?!

chix?! pLease answer me!

pLease pLease answer me i’m reaLLy worried!

She put the palmhusk back in the pouch, where it would stay for at least the next five minutes before she obsessively checked again. Whatever had happened in that city, Chixie wasn’t able to respond right away. The part of Elwurd’s mind that was always nagging at her said that Chixie was dead. Chixie had been blown up by the bomb… or maybe she’d been killed when the Army took the city. It didn’t really matter which, because the bottom line was that Chixie was dead now. Her moirail was dead… and Elwurd didn’t think she’d ever even _had_ a moirail before.

More than anything, Elwurd just wanted to curl up and cry somewhere. Why should she be fated to lose everyone she ever got to genuinely care about? Her mother… her moirail… even the woman she thought she _might_ have some truly red feelings for had been killed when she blew herself up to cover their escape from the caverns. Who was next? Would Daraya end up dead as well because Elwurd had the nerve to start to catch flushed feelings for her? It would be on-brand, at least.

_It isn’t fair!_ She was crying anyway. She was crying because it wasn’t fair — wasn’t fair that they didn’t get to live when so many others did. That they didn’t get to live when she did.

“Drone!” Polypa shouted from the head of their little convoy of deercats. Elwurd did exactly what she’d been taught and quickly slid off the side of the lusus and tapped their side. The lusus knew exactly what to do, quickly lying down sideways on the ground. Ahead of her, Daraya and Polypa were all doing the same. Glancing back, she could see Stelsa and Tyzias off their mounts as well, all of them ducking down into the dry waste-dirt and holding their breath.

In the distance, the whine of the drone grew louder and louder. It was flying low, probably scanning the area for anyone trying to enter the city… or flee from it. Elwurd could feel the shaking starting — the raw fear that crawled right up inside her stomach and latched on. At the front of the lusus convoy, Polypa was unwrapping a long bundle from a section of canvas — and when she was done, she had the anti-drone rifle up on its bipod and set up on a specially-crafted mount on the lusus saddle.

Taking down a drone in mid-air would be difficult. Even with the targeting computer on board the rifle’s scope, it was still going to be very much a shot in the dark. Elwurd wondered how many shots Polypa even had with the thing — she guessed it wasn’t many.

The sound of the drone grew to a crescendo that echoed through the wastes — a screaming whine that made Elwurd’s hair stand on end. This wasn’t like the recruitment drone that had killed her mother, but it was close enough that she felt her guts tighten up. The lusii shifted nervously, but they were well-trained.

Everyone huddled in the dark.

Everyone waited.

Polypa kept adjusting the rifle — she would only have a small window where she could make the shot. Once the drone got too close, the angle would too steep to effectively hit the thing without a proper mount. What amounted to a tripod propped up on a lusus wasn’t going to cut it.

The scream grew and grew and as it threatened to overwhelm them, Elwurd covered her ears and shut her eyes tightly. There wasn’t anything else she could do. The carbine she had would be almost completely useless.

_At least I get to see them all again. Maybe. Skylla and Chixie and my mom._ She smiled at that.

And then the scream reached its peak.

And began to fade away.

Elwurd opened her eyes and glanced skyward — the drone had broken its flight path and wheeled back around to head back to the city. Polypa was still tracking it warily with the rifle, but she hadn’t fired a shot. Elwurd’s inside loosened up all at once and she could breathe again — she sighed with relief and let out a short laugh of pure exaltation at the idea of simply being alive.

Finally, the drone left the horizon and the last echoes of its engine faded into nothing. The silence that crept in afterward was painful to hear, but a lot less painful than the drone had been. Elwurd patted her mount on the side and the deercat grunted and returned to her feet. “You’re okay,” Elwurd said quietly.

Polypa had put the rifle away and come back to check on the others. She spoke to Daraya first, talking in a low tone that involved Daraya nodding a lot. Then she walked back to Elwurd.

“You doing okay?” she asked — Elwurd nodded. “Good. I know it’s your first time out in the field, right?”

“I mean…” Elwurd trailed off without finishing. That greatly depended on what you meant by “the field.”

But Poly seemed to have something very specific in mind. She put a hand on Elwurd’s shoulder and looked her dead in the eyes. “Look, you’re going to be heading into an occupied city, and you’re not going to have any kind of backup. You don’t get the luxury of scurrying off into a hole whenever things get a little bit bad. You understand me?”

Elwurd glared at her. “I’m not a wiggler. I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t think you are, but I won’t be there to help out. Someone’s got to do overwatch with the rifle and I’m the only one who’s actually got any time on anything like it.” Suddenly, it was very obvious what she’d been talking to Daraya about. Daraya was going to be leading them into the city.

“Fine, let’s just keep going.”

* * *

A quarter mile outside of the city, they found a rock formation that provided natural cover and a solid spot to set up the anti-drone rifle, so Polypa had left them there as she set up her sniper’s nest to watch over the city. She would only engage the drones if they were an active threat — overall she was just going to be watching and letting the others know what she saw.

They also left their lusus mounts there and went the rest of the way on foot. Elwurd felt incredibly vulnerable without the lusus, and with Polypa waiting behind. Daraya looked nervous, as did the two teals trailing behind. Elwurd _felt_ nervous. She walked up next to Daraya and spoke in a low voice that only they could hear.

“Are you okay?”

Daraya shook her head and smiled. “No. Absolutely not. But what choice do we have? We’ve got no other way of finding out what’s going on. And Chixie’s in there… I’m sure that hasn’t escaped your notice yet.

_She’s dead._ “I know that. I know she’s in there and… this is all such a fucking shit-show, Daraya!”

“I know,” Daraya said softly. “I wish it wasn’t like this. You think I wouldn’t rather be back in the caverns spending time with… with the people I give a shit about.” She glanced at Elwurd and her cheeks flushed green. “For what it’s worth, yes… I’d rather be pailing with you than wading into whatever this is.”

Elwurd laughed. “Me… or Lynera.” That got Daraya blushing properly.

“Shut up,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re just being a jerk now.”

“But I’m not _wrong._ ” Elwurd winked. “Don’t worry about it — I’m not jealous, no matter what quadrant you’re in with her.”

“You’re the fucking _worst_ El,” Daraya said with a quick smile.

The smile died quickly as they kept walking, taking one of the paths through the low underbrush that surrounded the city. It led down into the waste off-chutes that fed wastewater off into the surrounding drainage system. Their desperate hope was that it would be relatively unimportant for the occupying force.

Daraya unslung the rifle she was carrying — something with a long barrel and a thermal scope mounted to the top. Following suit, Elwurd took her own carbine off her shoulder and thumbed the safety off. All of a sudden, she felt even more vulnerable. Looking back, she saw that Stelsa had a pistol out, but Tyzias was empty-handed. She’d said something about not being comfortable with a gun, until Stelsa had insisted she take along a small pistol anyway. Just in case.

The runoff water had seen to it that the weeds grew tall and thick in the ditches, and the view of Hivefield was cut off above them as they descended. The tradeoff, and Elwurd thought it was worth it, was that they would be almost impossible to observe from the city itself. All around her, the smell of half-decayed organic matter punched up into her nostrils until she didn’t think she was going to smell anything other than the swamp-smell that permeated everything now.

It felt like forever, but they’d probably only walked a couple hundred yards before they hit a drainage pipe set in the side of a low wall. Above them, the city wall itself could be seen. So far, they hadn’t seen anyone else.

“This is the primary outlet drain for the lowblood district,” Daraya said in a whisper. “If we follow it, we’ll be out in the middle of the district eventually. What we’re going to do is set up a little camp in this sewer.” Elwurd was already dreading the prospect of sleeping in the rotten stink of the place. “Once we’re set up, we’ll ditch our heavy kit with one of us and go up and try to find out what’s going on. We have no idea how heavily patrolled the city is, or how tightly they’ve locked it down. We need to make sure we stay very low-key so that we don’t get noticed. If that happens… we don’t have a lot of options.”

That was an understatement. It was a quarter-mile sprint back to the position where Polypa had the lusii. Polypa had the anti-drone rifle and a heavy marksman’s rifle as well, but that was it. If the city had armored units… if they had anything more than a handful of soldiers. It wasn’t going to matter much if they ran — even getting inside of the range of Polypa’s rifle would be difficult, and she only had so much ammunition. If they were spotted, they would probably all end up dead.

Daraya turned and walked forward into the pipe, ducking a little to avoid scraping her horns on the low ceiling. There wasn’t any point in dragging it out. Without another moment of contemplation, Elwurd followed her into the stinking darkness.


	14. Tinderbox

11th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1250 local time (0350 AUT)

The noise in her ears rang out, and it wouldn’t stop. For a moment, Chixie wondered if something had permanently been damaged. _I don’t want to lose my hearing._

The flaps of the tent fluttered wildly in the breeze that had been kicked up — the unnatural breeze that the differential in air pressure caused by the fires outside that were already starting. The city was dry, and it was already starting to catch. _I need to get up._

She couldn’t. Couldn’t stand, because her head was still swimming from the sudden disorientation of the blast outside. The tent had softened the blow, but only just. She pushed herself up as much as possible and slid over toward Pantal, who was groaning on their back and clutching at their own ears.

“What happened?” It was all she could think of to say. But she could hear herself talking, so that was a good sign. “What happened?”

Pantal winced and, with what looked like a considerable amount of effort, pushed themselves to their feet. They wobbled once, then steadied themselves. Looking down at Chixie, they shook their head and then looked around the tent frantically.

“We need to grab what we can,” they said quickly, beginning to search through the disorganized piles of medical equipment that had been left when the explosion pushed everything over. “We need to get out there and help people!”

Chixie gathered all of her strength — the inner will that had helped her walk out of hell once in the past — and she slowly stood, feeling the ground swaying under her as she did it. All of a sudden, she wanted to throw up, and she fought the urge with every tentative step that she took over toward where Pantal was rummaging through the scattered medical supplies and cramming them into a shoulder bag.

“I don’t…” Chixie started to speak, but then felt her reel forward as another wave of nausea hit her full-on. Pantal stopped what they were doing and ran over to support her under her arm.

“You got this. We just survived the worst part.” That sounded a lot like a lie. “We’ve just gotta keep moving and see if there’s anyone else we can help.” She nodded weakly and swallowed hard.

“Okay… okay… I’m okay.” She nodded again and Pantal let her go, continuing to cram medical supplies into their bag. “What the hell happened?”

Pantal shrugged. “Who knows? Drone strike, maybe.”

“It felt… it was like a bomb that went off.” And she had no way of knowing that for certain, but it _felt_ right to her. “Why would they…” She was rambling — there was no need to understand the reason behind it in order to survive. Pantal seemed to share that sentiment, because their only response was another shrug.

“Fuck if I know. Let’s get out there. You okay to walk?”

She nodded, and they stepped out of the remains of the tent and into the open-air market.

It was, Chixie would think later, like stepping right back into hell. The fires were already raging in the corner of the market, beginning to consume the cheaply-made hives that crowded throughout the lowblood district. A good chunk of the far side of the market had simply ceased to exist in any meaningful way, being completely replaced with a grotesque tangle of rubble from where the explosion had, presumably, been centered.

All around, she could hear screaming and cries of pain. The market had been bustling with activity when the bomb — and more than ever Chixie was convinced that it _was_ a bomb — had gone off. Now it was teeming with the dead and dying. Chixie looked to her right and saw a rust blood lying on his side with a massive gash torn in his side. To her morbid fascination, she could see pieces of intestine poking through the gash. He groaned, still alive, and Chixie started to run over toward him when she felt a strong hand gripping her arm. She turned to see Pantal shaking their head.

“We don’t have time for this. This square is about to go up in flames. We need to get anyone who’s still okay and get the fuck out of here.”

Chixie stared at the rust blood — at his face that was either pleading with her or in so much pain that he couldn’t even recognize her. She wasn’t sure which. She struggled against Pantal’s grip and shook her head. “We have to help them! They deserve our help!”

Their expression was set. “I know that. No one deserves this, but this is what’s happening.”

She fought back the tears that were swimming in her eyes and turned away from the dying rust blood. It hurt… more than anything she thought she’d had to do in her life. Together, she and Pantal kept walking through the square.

Closest to the blast, there were nothing but bodies — trolls that had been killed by the explosion itself or the blast wave from it. Chixie could tell from the warm-hued splatters on the ground that it hadn’t been an easy or a clean way to go. A step back from that, the trolls were technically still alive, but only barely. They moaned in pain and clutched at gaping wounds and missing limbs. Blood was everywhere.

Once more, Chixie felt like throwing up.

There was a stir of movement up ahead, and Pantal ran to go check on it. Throwing aside pieces of debris, they quickly uncovered a short troll hiding behind what had once been a heavy planter. Chixie recognized Zebede right away, but it was a Zebede who had seen hell open up in front of him. He trembled as he took Pantal’s hand and slowly stood up.

“Oh my god…” It seemed to be all he could say — his voice was verging on inaudible over the rising roar of the fires on the other side of the square. “Oh my god… they’re… they’re all…”

She knew what he was trying to say before he even finished the sentence.

_They’re all dead._

* * *

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 0739 local time (2239 AUT)

Nearly nineteen hours had passed since they’d pulled Zebede from under the rubble in the open-air market and started running. They’d finished checking the square, but any other survivors had already fled the scene before Pantal and Chixie had even gotten out of the medical tent. So they’re run, looking for someplace to hide.

Eventually, they’d ended up right back in the small hive-for-rent that Chixie was staying in while doing work in the city. It wasn’t a very creative hiding spot, but as soon as they heard the dropships buzzing overhead, she was glad that she’d instinctively ducked inside.

For hours, they huddled in the hive and listened to the noises outside — the sounds of dropships running in low, then of soldiers running past in the streets. Eventually, the sound of the heavy lift-ships that brought in armored equipment. Chixie could see some of it outside the window, but mostly it was in her imagination. Beyond the sounds, there was the smell — the ever-present odor of burning as the lowblood district lit itself on fire one hive at a time. Chixie’s hiveblock was, fortunately, set far enough away and proof enough against the blaze that she didn’t worry too much, but she still worried. It was impossible _not_ to worry.

Pantal checked both her and Zebede, and announced that other than a few bruises and scrapes, they had both managed to survive intact. That being settled, Chixie went to sit on the floor by the window and stared into the hive while she strained to figure out what was going on outside.

After a few hours, it grew quiet again. Chixie wanted to check her palmhusk, but something was blocking the signal. She settled on unlocking it every few minutes, checking for a message from Elwurd, and then putting it away in her pocket knowing that it was a wasted effort in the first place. They were completely cut off from the outside world with no way of knowing whether or not anyone outside of the city even knew what was going on. Maybe Elwurd was frantically trying to reach her, or maybe she hadn’t heard a word of it.

Pantal seemed to be taking it all in stride — they had settled in on the couch and were napping lightly, sometimes waking up to check up on what was happening and make sure the others were okay. Chixie realized that she knew almost nothing about the teal-blood with the suspiciously calm attitude towards such a chaotic situation. She made a mental note to ask about that later… when she was feeling more able to handle new information.

Zebede was, to be blunt about it, kind of a mess. He’d looked like he was going to start screaming and run off the whole way to the hive, and he wasn’t calming down much even once they were off the streets. Every time a dropship or a drone whirred in the distance, he would jump and look around as if they were about to be on the receiving end of an attack. She couldn’t blame him for thinking like that — it was essentially what had just happened.

After a few hours of this, along with a short while spent in a kind of half-sleep, Chixie stood up and walked to the small kitchen. Wordlessly, she retrieved an electric kettle and filled it with water. Finally, after the kettle was filled and plugged in, she turned to Zebede.

“Do you like tea?” She didn’t feel much like smiling, but she did it anyway. Zebede relaxed a little bit at this, and Chixie was reminded of how she’d always found a small comfort in touchstones of normality when things got bad before. “I don’t have many varieties, but there’s a very nice local herbal tea that uses flowers harvested in the Wastes.”

“Oh! That sounds wonderful!” Zebede smiled back and clapped his hands in front of him. “I always love a good cup of tea when I’m at hive!”

From the couch, Chixie heard the rustle of movement and Pantal’s voice, heavy with sleep — “Pour me a cup too… I could use it.”

* * *

Once the tea was made, the three of them stood around Chixie’s counter sipping their respective cups. The silence around them was comforting — and Chixie realized that the noise of the dropships and drones had mostly quieted down. She was sure that there were plenty of soldiers still swarming through the streets and camped out all over the city, but at least for the moment they had some brief respite from having to think about it. So they stood there and sipped tea as if they’d all just decided to make a social call.

Finally, Chixie decided that she needed to ask the question that had been on her mind — “Hey, Pantal, how’re you so calm with all of this? We’re here about to lose our shit and you’re pulling us together like it’s nothing.”

For a while, they were silent. Finally, Pantal heaved out a sigh. “I used to be a Fleet medic.”

Chixie stared at them as they stood there, still calmly sipping their tea. And it made sense. The calm under pressure. The ability to pull themselves together so quickly. The medical knowledge.

“You… you were offworld?” Chixie stared at them in awe.

“Yes,” Pantal said quietly. “Offworld for two sweeps… in one of the expeditionary forces.”

Chixie kept staring. She’d heard stories about the expeditionary forces — about the ones chosen by the Empire to forge out into new worlds and conquer them in the name of the Empress. Although the stories always conveniently left out exactly _who_ they were conquering. Given her experiences in the past half-sweep, she had a feeling she knew what that really meant.

“I got shipped back to Alternia after the High Imperator got himself blown up and… well, I just took the first chance I had planetside and never came back. Met up with the folks here in Hivefield eventually, but…” They looked off toward the window. “I couldn’t keep doing that anymore. Imagine what we saw today, but it’s every day of your life.”

Chixie frowned, and her heart jumped. Pantal shrugged and took another sip of tea. “I wonder sometimes about why I felt the way I did… that it just stopped bothering me the same after a while. Like I ended up turning myself off while I was out there. But… I was hurting so much all of the time because of it. You tell yourself to stop feeling one thing… it tends to spill over into everything else.” They set their cup down and frowned deeply. “I thought it’d be different back here and… I guess it is. Now I’m on the other end of who’s being shot at. Maybe.”

They shrugged, and Chixie frowned deeply. Once more, she took out her palmhusk and stared at it, hoping that a message from Elwurd would suddenly appear.

The palmhusk buzzed loudly in her hand — and Chixie almost dropped it on the counter. On the screen, she saw the message indicator for the palmhusk’s short-range local message function. Which was impossible, because it meant that Elwurd had to be within a mile or so, tops.

Incoming short-range burst from gaegrl69nice at 0817 AST (2317 AUT)

Elwurd

i hope you’re stiLL at your pLace.

because we’re gonna be there in ten.

Chixie held the palmhusk in front of her chest, cradling it like a lusus with a new grub, and she closed her eyes and smiled. It wasn’t all right — nothing was all right. But in that moment, at least this one thing felt just a little bit more all right than before.

_And right now, I’ll take it._


	15. Above Contemplation

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0549 local time (2049 AUT)

It was going to be another early night for Bronya — another night where she woke in the small hours of the twilight and stayed up until the sun was ready to crest the horizon again. What did it matter down in the caverns, anyway? Sunlight or no, she was only beholden to her own sleep cycle… and to the needs of the people around her.

Which was, she reflected from her customary place at her desk, the real problem.

She’d always felt like she had to be a leader to the jade bloods that were in the caverns with her. That was something that came naturally to her — at least as much so as caring for the grubs and seeing the wigglers off to the trials. She had no idea what her ultimate fate after Ascension would be, but she’d always thought that she’d probably end up the Prioress in a conclave somewhere. Maybe a colony… maybe out in deep space. It didn’t matter, because functionally it would mean being trapped inside forever and overseeing the continuation of her species.

Her life had changed.

She glanced back at the sleeping form of Lynera, resting comfortably in the recupercoon.

And she reached down to work the front of her pajamas in between her thumb and forefinger. The fabric was the same pattern as always — the same soft flannel with the gentle green plaid pattern that she’d become so familiar with over the last sweep. But not the brilliant gold from her dream… and what in the world did all of that _mean?!_ She had all these half-remembered sensations when she woke up, and she wasn’t sure what to make of any of it. It always felt like there was some colossal meaning behind what she was seeing, but she could never seem to hold onto it.

Was she supposed to be leading these people now? It didn’t make any sense to her — because so much of what they were doing was outside her experience. But at the same time they seemed to turn to her as a kind of common point they could all use to ground themselves. Maybe not a leader, exactly, but someone who they all felt comfortable with. Someone who would help keep them all focused and sane. Maybe that was the grand purpose that the dreams were hinting at — Bronya didn’t have much experience in the kind of vagary behind interpreting visions.

It probably didn’t even matter. She leaned forward on the desk and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter, as long as she kept on the path…

* * *

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep for, but she woke to find Lynera standing over her, wringing her hands. The edges of the dream were already fading away. Bronya sat up slowly and blinked. “What happened? What time is it?”

“It’s just after six. You got up early again, didn’t you?” Her voice had a nervous edge to it that pulled at Bronya’s heart.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I 1 — couldn’t sleep anymore and… 2 — fell asleep… at the desk.” She looked down and a flush of embarrassment ran through her. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lynera said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I just wanted you to get some rest after you collapsed! You’re always doing this…”

“Doing what?” She already knew the answer.

“Pushing yourself so hard! You don’t need to do that — we’re all here to help out!” Lynera knelt down next to Bronya and put a hand in her lap that Bronya quickly took in her hands and squeezed.

“I know that. Would it be enough if I said that 1 — I am sorry, and 2 — I won’t do it again.”

Lynera smiled sadly and shook her head. “You sound like you’re a wiggler who’s been caught getting into trouble.” She was right, of course, and Bronya knew it full well… no matter how much she didn’t want to admit it. “Do you want to talk about it for real?”

Did she want to talk about it? Did she want to put a name to what she was feeling inside and make it real? She supposed that the self-doubt wouldn’t fade away just because she tried to ignore it — it hadn’t in the past half-sweep, why would it now?

“Lynera… why do you want to be my matesprit so badly?”

Lynera’s eyes widened and her mouth curled down into a small frown as soon as she heard it. For a brief, terrifying moment Bronya expected her to suddenly realize that she did not, in fact, want to be her matesprit. Whatever pleasant illusion had been cast over the two of them would shatter and Lynera would want to be with someone else, maybe. _Maybe Daraya?_ Bronya closed her eyes and frowned to herself — that was a thought that conflicted deeply with how she’d always felt about those two, but it didn’t stop it from stinging in the moment.

“I don’t think it’s something I can just… put into words like that,” Lynera said softly. “There’s a lot of different reasons. The way I saw you acting every day… the way that I got to know you… the care and devotion that I saw in you.” She shifted on her knees and Bronya could see her cheeks flushing. “And yes, the fact that I find you… uh…” She stammered and her voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. “Beautiful.”

Bronya felt her own face getting hot. “I… thank you. But… you’re going to find that 1 — I’m actually quite boring and 2 — there’ll always be someone more exciting. Right?”

Lynera’s eyebrows furrowed — and, if Bronya was being really honest, she looked like she was about to cry. “Is this about me and Daraya?” Something in the tone — the way she sounded so pained to articulate this — made Bronya feel a burst of shame at her insecurity.

She looked down at her hands… still clasped with Lynera’s.

“I don’t want you to stop loving me,” Bronya said in a voice she wasn’t sure anyone else could hear. _Oh wow… I’m just going to act like a scared wiggler looking for her lusus now, aren’t I?_

She closed her eyes and waited for what would come next. She’d felt so alone lately — so cut off from everything, even when the people who cared most about her were right there.

“We care about you. We love you.” A warm set of lips, pressed gently to her neck. A sense of comfort that washed down her back and ran all through her, until even her fingers tingled with it. “And I’m not going to just stop loving you. I can, as a matter of fact, love more than one person.”

Bronya blushed and kept her eyes closed, but she was smiling now. “Flushed for Daraya now too?”

She heard Lynera laugh next to her neck — a kind of nasal sound that she found charming. “Are you interested in being my auspistice now too?” Her voice was laced with good humor, and Daraya smiled.

“No. I’m just curious. I’m… I’m not familiar with how it feels to vacillate like that.”

“Are you interested in it?” Her voice was gently teasing, and Bronya felt her cheeks getting hot.

“No! I’m happy being your matesprit!”

Lynera hummed to herself. “Oh… you’re pitch for Daraya?”

“NO!” Her cheeks were basically on fire. _I seriously underestimated her ability to keep doing this!_ “Stop!” As soon as she said it, she felt a hand gently brush along the line of her jaw, down her neck, and settle on her sternum. Lynera pressed gently against her chest.

“I’m sorry… I was just trying to cheer you up,” Lynera said. “And for the record… I don’t care if you’re pale or pitch or red as rust for Daraya or anyone else. I love you and I’ll keep loving you… all I ask is that you understand that those feelings aren’t conditional on how I might feel about someone else.”

Bronya breathed in, deeply.

“Can you do that?”

Bronya breathed out, slowly.

And she gave her answer.

“Yes.”

* * *

Bronya wasn’t sure how she’d ended up like this, but she had Lynera up against the wall, and then she was kneeling in front of her matesprit. Lynera grabbed loosely at Bronya’s hair, threading it into her fingers but being careful not to tug or pull. Lynera’s robe spilled open, leaving very little between the two of them.

_This is VERY improper._ The thought struck her so quickly that she almost laughed — what difference did any of that make? The old order — the way that things had been done for countless sweeps — was broken down to nothing in this place. Maybe Alternia still rigidly adhered to the old ways of separating and controlling its people, but here in the Free Caverns those ways meant nothing.

Bronya leaned in and kissed Lynera’s stomach — one side, then the other. Kissed the swell of her hip, right along the line of her panties. _And you’d like to do this with Daraya too… if you could manage it. Right?_ This time she almost choked on her own thoughts… and the flush that had been threatening to overrun her cheeks entirely only got more pronounced. _Why the fuck would I think that?!_

Lynera let out a small moan and curled her finger in Bronya’s hair, pulling ever-so-slightly. Her knuckle brushed lightly against the sensitive spot at the base of Bronya’s horns and she bit her lip to stop the sound that threatened to come out when _that_ happened. Thoughts kept racing through her mind — thoughts about what she was doing… what she _wanted_ to be doing. _Who I want to be doing it with._ It felt like something had been knocked loose and she would, ultimately, have to pick up whatever had fallen out.

Maybe.

But not right now.

She planted her hands steadily on Lynera’s hips and squeezed lightly, leaning in to kiss the middle of her stomach again. She breathed out slowly, feeling the way that the warmth of it reflected back to her lips. With one hand, she traced up along the line of Lynera’s side… along the slight bit of wiggler fat that Lynera was so self-conscious of (but that Bronya found adorable)... along the traces of her grub scars. Lynera gasped sharply when her hands touched the sensitive skin along her scars.

“Are you okay?” Bronya said. She heard a murmuring of assent from Lynera, along with a matching tug on her hair. “Okay, then…”

She planted a kiss on the first grub scar, then drew back and pushed herself to her feet. Standing in front of her, Lynera looked like she was about to completely lose her composure. Her hair was slightly disheveled and she had the robe barely closed over her bare chest. Staring directly into Bronya’s eyes, Lynera bit her bottom lip.

“I really do love you,” Lynera said, her eyes half-closed. “And I’m serious about what I said.”

“So do I,” Bronya responded. “And… I am too.” She cupped Lynera’s chin in her hand and leaned in to kiss her. When their lips met, she let it linger a lot longer than she needed to. A lot longer than _let’s pail_ or _I’m red for you_ or even _I love you._ She wasn’t sure what she was even trying to say anymore, but it was real and it was desperate and it was important.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, there was a golden city.

Here, in front of her, was a woman she loved.

The kiss continued — the feeling of Lynera’s tongue brushing quickly against hers. Of a connection that still felt forbidden, even though the authority forbidding it would want them both dead anyway. There was a time when she would’ve cared about that — where she would’ve balked at the idea of doing something _wrong_ even as she didn’t understand even the slightest reason why she even thought it was wrong in the first place.

That time was long-since passed.

Bronya pressed forward into the kiss — pushed up against Lynera — let the hot feeling inside her crash over and spill out.

_I’m terrified, all the time._

Pressed her hips close.

_Every day we’re here… I’m sure we’ll all be dead._

Reached up and grabbed a handful of Lynera’s hair and pulled.

_I’m so tired of being scared all the fucking time. I love her, and I’m not going to keep acting like such a nervous wiggler all the time._

Pressed closer and closer, until there was only one place for her to go.


	16. Reunion

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 0830 local time (2330 AUT)

When she thought back on it later, Daraya found the whole scene surreal in a way that was almost comical. They’d left their main gear back in the sewage system under the care of Stelsa and Tyzias and gone to see if Chixie was at her hive wearing their thick traveling cloaks and wearing the lightweight fibrous body armor they’d brought with them in their gear. There was something truly bizarre about a pair of armed, cloaked, armored figures knocking on this woman’s door like it was a social call.

Elwurd had looked nervous the whole way to Chixie’s hive, and Daraya didn’t think it had anything to do with being in occupied enemy territory. They were both technically on various lists that the Legiscorpus maintained, but Daraya doubted that the soldiers in the street would even have access to that information. They had enough of a cover story to answer cursory questions, but the body armor and pistols would probably give away the game if anyone got too close.

Fortunately, the soldiers they did see completely ignored them. Guard points had been set up throughout the city, but they mostly just seemed to be there to keep watch over everything and not to actually _do_ anything. As far as Daraya could tell, not a single shot had been fired in spite of all of the noise the Army had made rolling into the city in the first place. It was a rare piece of good news, and she was going to take it.

“Come on, come on… please be home…” Elwurd knocked twice on the door and looked around the hallway like it was going to come alive with Alternian troops. Her eyes met Daraya’s and she smiled quickly. “It’s fine, right?” Daraya could only shrug.

“Other than the bombing… I guess? I’m sorry, but she might not be—” Daraya was cut off mid-sentence as the door opened to reveal the nervous face of Chixie Roixmr.

Elwurd practically threw the door open and wrapped Chixie in a hug without hesitating.

“Oh my fucking fuck… I thought you were dead!” She was sobbing against Chixie’s shoulder. Daraya had never, as far as she could remember, seen Elwurd like this. Even as her off-and-on matesprit, she’d always come across as at least a little bit distant most of the time. But when she was with her moirail, she seemed to open up in a way that she never did with anyone else.

“No… not quite…” Chixie muttered against Elwurd’s head. “You wanna… come in?”

The hive itself was small, but cozy. Chixie was only there sometimes, and only for a few perigees, but she’d still made the place her own. A few posters for her favorite bands, as well as the ones she’d actually been in, lined the walls. Daraya was surprised to see the shitty poster she and some friends had made for their one-off attempt at making a band of their own back when she was only eight sweeps.

“I thought we burned all those,” Daraya said, gesturing at the poster. Chixie laughed.

“Oh, yeah… I guess I was kinda flattered when y’all said that you were inspired by my music. I’d just started out on the underground scene, so… it meant a lot to me.” She smiled that same nervous smile that she always had — the one that looked so disarmingly _genuine_ — and Daraya couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve been moving that same poster around for the last couple sweeps.”

“So, you planning to introduce these two assholes?” Elwurd said sarcastically, waving a hand at the short troll sitting in the corner and the tall, short-horned one propped up on the couch. Chixie nodded and rushed over to the middle of the living room.

“This is Zebede — he was helping with our relief efforts. And this is Pantal — they were our doctor until…” she frowned deeply and looked away. “You know, before everything happened.”

Elwurd narrowed her eyes. “Well… we’re here to get you out of here!”

From the couch, the troll named Pantal laughed. “How do you plan to do that?” They sat up and propped their elbows on their knees… and there was something about the way they spoke that sounded familiar to Daraya. Not anything specific, but the general manner… they sounded a lot like Polypa. This was, Daraya realized, someone who was intimately familiar with death. “You just gonna walk out?”

Elwurd shook her head, still clutching Chixie. “Hey, fuck you. We’ve got some friends hiding in the drainage systems with our gear. We’ve got overwatch out of town and lusii to ride back to the Free Jade Caverns.”

“The what?” Pantal asked, squinting at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chixie cleared her throat and gently pushed herself away from Elwurd. “No, she’s right. The base for the New Alternian Defense Force.”

“The hell is that?” Pantal asked with a confused look on their face. _They didn’t see the broadcast._

“Don’t worry about it,” Daraya said quickly. “Point is we’ve got a safe place to go and people to help get you out of the city.” Pantal simply shrugged at that and sat back down on the couch.

“What’s been happening out there?” Chixie asked, looking at Elwurd with pleading eyes. “All I know is that we were setting up for our usual distribution and then… it just…” She bent over and wrapped her arms around her chest and started to sob. It was as if the past cycle had all hit her at once. “Oh… oh no…”

Without another word, Elwurd stepped forward and wrapped up Chixie in her arms. A part of the woman that Daraya had never seen came out. Elwurd had always seemed at least a little bit distant — interested in doing what felt good in the moment and not so much in actually connecting emotionally with anyone else. Daraya had always known — although she never said anything — that it was the reason that Bronya had left her when they were still matesprits. Honestly, it didn’t really bother Daraya… she had enough emotional complexity in her life with her and Lynera’s ever-evolving relationship. It was nice to have someone who wanted something casual.

But this wasn’t casual. Chixie’s body language changed as soon as Elwurd had her arms around her. She immediately relaxed, even though she was still sobbing. After a couple minutes, the sobs grew quiet and Chixie closed her eyes.

“Thanks,” she whispered softly. “Thank you…”

“This is heartwarming, but if you really have a way out then we need to take it.” Pantal again… they really did sound like Polypa. “The Army might be quiet right now, but who knows what’s going to happen next.”

Daraya looked down. “Someone set off a bomb and claimed it was the NADF who did it.”

“I still don’t know who that is, exactly,” Pantal said.

“Rebels,” Daraya said quickly. “We’re revolutionaries, but… there’s not many of us. And someone with more resources wants it to look like we’re bombing shit.”

Pantal nodded. “Interesting. But we still need to get going.”

* * *

Wrapped in their cloaks, the five of them were out on the streets again. The smell was still in the air — the fires might’ve burned themselves out, but the stench still hung over the city. They walked quickly, moving past small groups of soldiers huddled under makeshift shelters or set up in storefronts.

“I don’t even understand what’s happening,” Chixie said to no one in particular. “I thought… after the High Imperator died…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Elwurd said. “Another one swapped out for him… and maybe they aren’t going to bomb this city into the ground like Everdim but…” She didn’t finish her sentence — didn’t need to finish her sentence. They were in basically the same situation overall. The planet was still under the thumb of the Empire. Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty was still ruling over all of it. Nothing had really changed, after all of it.

They walked back the way that they’d gotten to Chixie’s hive, winding their way through the back alleys and side streets. After a while, they didn’t pass any more other citizens, and the clusters of soldiers grew less and less frequent. Above, the rise of the lowblood hives closed in and blotted out the view of the sky. It was just as well… Daraya didn’t want to see the plumes of black smoke up against the night sky.

Zebede had been quiet most of the time, but he finally spoke up. “Uh… when are we going to be there? I hate being out like this.”

“Just a little bit more,” Daraya said in a voice she hoped was calming. She didn’t feel very calm herself. “We’re heading to one of the access hatches in an alley… we can’t just drop in wherever or we might be spotted by the Army.”

That seemed to placate Zebede — he nodded and tried to smile as he continued to walk in silence. Daraya looked down at the pavement in front of them, purposefully avoiding the press of the city above her. All the time she’d spent trying to run from the jade caverns, and now all she wanted was to go back.

She kept thinking about how much she missed Lynera… not something she expected to be thinking about while she was strolling through an occupied city, but there it was. She was even warming up to Bronya a little bit — the matriarch had been a supportive, caring presence for all of them. Lynera cared a lot about her too, and they seemed to be good for each other. _This is so fucking sappy. Why am I getting like this after everything?_ Maybe it was just getting older. Or maybe it was the sudden realization that she didn’t have the space to be a wiggler anymore.

She just wanted to go back hive and hold the woman she loved and listen to her talk about something. Anything. Any kind of ridiculous nonsense would be fine. _You love her._ She wasn’t sure when the feelings had shifted around — when the idea of what they had together had shifted in her mind. Daraya supposed that it didn’t really matter, as long as they were all on board with the idea. And Bronya. And Elwurd. Daraya glanced nervously up at Elwurd, who was walking quickly with her head down. She kept glancing over at Chixie.

_I don’t fucking know._ Daraya knew she could figure it out later.

They turned a blind corner, and that was when the soldiers saw them.

Only two this time, a small patrol away from their main station. Or maybe just going to poke around on their own — maybe loot a little bit while they had the chance. Daraya hoped that they would act just like all the others and ignore them completely.

“You there… stop right where you are…” one of the soldiers spoke first — a tall, bulky troll wearing full body armor. His companion, a shorter troll with long hair swept back into a ponytail, laughed. It wasn’t a good sign.

Daraya immediately began looking for an exit — some sign of a way out. But they were trapped in a narrow alley with only forward and backward, and their goal was right up ahead. Another fifty yards to reach the access point that would lead them back to their equipment. Fifty yards had never felt like so long in her entire life.

“Excuse me?” Elwurd said, drawing herself up. “What’s the meaning of this?”

The short troll laughed again. “Listen to her. Stuck-up gaper.” She had her carbine out, pointed at Elwurd. “What are you doing out during curfew?”

“I’m a cerulean — I go where I want.” Daraya had to give Elwurd credit — it was a bold move. But the short troll only laughed once more, this time joined by her larger companion.

“You hear that? She’s a cerulean. Guess what—” she lashed out with the butt of her carbine and hit Elwurd square in the stomach — the blow was blunted by the body armor and the short troll’s face changed. “What the fuck?! They’re wearing armor.”

Now the taller troll had his own carbine up and pointing at Chixie, who happened to be next in line. “Get your fucking hands up!” he screamed.

“Why are you wearing armor?” the short troll asked, her voice low and dangerous. “I bet they’re with the fucking terrorists that did this.”

“We should just take them out now,” the tall troll said. “We don’t even need to tell the sergeant.”

“Sir… ma’am,” Pantal was walking forward slowly with their hands up. “I assure you there’s an explanation.”

“It better be fucking good,” the short troll said, now pointing her carbine at Pantal.

Daraya saw Pantal’s eyes flick down, then up again. “Specialist, Trooper… I’m with Fleet Intel. These people are my responsibility, and I can’t divulge the nature of our mission.”

There was a moment of hesitation in the eyes of the bigger troll. “Specialist… did they say we had Fleet working in the op zone?”

“No, sarge never said anything about it,” she said, still holding the carbine up. The next thing she said was directed at Pantal. “You mind telling us your detachment?”

“Seventh Orbital Group, third battalion. We’re on deployment planetside, before you ask.”

“Specialist, maybe… maybe it’s the truth?” The big troll let his carbine drop. “Maybe we should call the sergeant.”

“No, I don’t believe you. My matesprit’s with Seventh Orbital… they got deployed back to an outbound capital ship to the Frontier a perigee ago. The whole fucking group…” She took two steps towards Pantal. “So… you mind showing me some identification?”

“Of course!” Pantal stepped forward and bent over, reaching back into their cloak.

Daraya wasn’t sure what happened next, exactly — there was a quick rush of movement and two loud barks of a pistol as the short troll’s head snapped back and then snapped forward as she dropped to the ground. Pantal was crouched in place with a pistol in their hands, breathing heavily. The tall troll raised his carbine and fired — in the same moment, Pantal fired again. The pistol round caught the tall troll in the neck and he stumbled back, choking.

Elwurd was already rushing forward to grab the carbine from the larger troll. Daraya stepped forward and picked up the weapon that the shorter troll had dropped.

Off to the side, she heard a strangled noise. Turning, she saw Chixie on her knees in the alley. The blood was already dripping down onto the pavement. She was shivering and shaking, the shock of what had just happened already setting in. Pantal was running over to her, their pistol forgotten on the ground.

All at once, the world got very, very small.

“Grab one of their fucking medical kits!” Pantal screamed. The scream sounded distant — far away — hollow. “Get your shit together or she is gonna bleed out!”


	17. Embedded

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 0856 local time (2356 AUT)

“Zizi!” Stelsa sat up with a start as soon as she heard the sound of gunfire echoing down from the streets above. “That was close!”

Tyzias, who’d been leaning back against Stelsa as they sat together by the pile of gear, shifted forward and got to her feet as quickly as she could. Stelsa was already up, grabbing Elwurd’s carbine from the equipment.

“I’m not taking a fucking gun, Stels.” Tyzias shook her head. “But we need to see what’s going on, don’t we?”

She nodded — and in that moment, her blood pusher was filled with pride for her matesprit. Tyzias had never wanted to be part of the violent grind that was Alternia, and this wasn’t something that came naturally to her. But she was brave and she was willing to do anything to help protect the people she cared about.

Together, they climbed up the access ladder that led to the alley above them. Stelsa went first, the carbine strapped to her back. She reached the hatch and slowly pushed it open, checking the alley for any sign of the source of the gunfire.

In the distance, down the alley about forty or fifty yards, she could see several shapes moving around. It was hard to recognize them in the dim light, but as she squinted she thought she recognized traveling cloaks. Cautiously, she pushed the hatch back and slid out into the alley, reaching back to help Tyzias up after her. Raising the carbine to her shoulder — shaking the whole time — Stelsa slowly walked down the alley.

She hadn’t actually fired a rifle since qualification in Legiscorpus training. Even the Auditerrorizers were required to have basic experience with pistols and rifles, in case they needed to assist with field operations. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually be able to fire the carbine at anyone, but it didn’t stop her from holding it as a kind of ward against danger. Maybe it was only in her mind, but it made her feel better.

There was yelling from up ahead — and Stelsa realized that she recognized Elwurd’s voice. She was screaming — screaming not to let someone die.

Letting the carbine fall to her side, Stelsa broke into a sprint and crossed the distance between her and the group as fast as possible. She recognized Daraya and Elwurd, and they were with a troll she’d seen before. Two bodies lay on the ground, both dressed like Alternian Army. A few feet away, the form of Chixie Roixmr was on the ground, with another unfamiliar troll crouched over her.

“Get this fucking cloak off of her!” the unfamiliar troll by Chixie yelled. “Someone get me a fuckin knife!” Elwurd ran forward and handed a knife to the stranger. None of them had even noticed Stelsa and Tyzias running up. The troll by Chixie quickly cut the front of the cloak and opened it up, revealing what had happened in full.

Chixie was lying on her back, struggling to breath. There was a small hole right below her ribs, pouring bronze-tinted blood onto the pavement. The unfamiliar troll pressed their hands to her side and shouted back — “I told you to grab one of their med kits!”

Daraya turned, and finally she noticed Stelsa and Tyzias. Her eyes grew wide.

“What the fuck are you two doing out here?” She yelled. Elwurd and the strange troll who _wasn’t_ currently trying to keep Chixie from bleeding out turned. “You’re supposed to be back down with the gear!”

“We heard gunshots, so we came to see what happened,” Tyzias said. “What the fuck happened?!”

“She got shot!” Elwurd yelled at them, then turned to the troll attending to Chixie. “You can’t let her die! She can’t fucking die!” She sounded like she was about to completely lose control, and Stelsa had no idea what to do about any of it.

Tyzias thought quicker — she ran over and grabbed a medical pouch from one of the two bodies of the Army soldiers and tossed it to Daraya, who brought it over to the unknown troll.

“Open it,” they said quickly. “There should be a foil pouch in there. Tear it open and hand the stuff inside to me.” Daraya did as she was told, and Stelsa saw what looked like pair of sponges. The strange troll crammed one in the front of the wound in Chixie’s side, then reached around to place one in what was, presumably, the exit wound on the other side.

“Good. Now open two of those big, flat packages and give it here.” Daraya did as she was told, and the stranger took their contents — two large, flat pads — and pressed one to each side of Chixie’s chest. With these sealed in place, the dripping flow of blood stopped completely. The strange troll paused, looking carefully at Chixie.

“Can you breath?” they asked. Stelsa saw Chixie nod slowly. “Good. Is it hard to breath?” Another nod. “Okay, good.” The strange troll took the medical pouch from Daraya’s hands, retrieved a pair of syringes, and injected them in quick succession into Chixie’s side, below the wound. Her voice softened. “I just gave you some sythedrine and a major painkiller… you’ll be able to breath better and you’re gonna feel real fucking good for about two hours. Don’t let that fool you — you need to get the fuck to some real medical treatment.”

The strange troll stood up and looked right at Elwurd. “Okay, so we’ve got two doses of these in each medkit, so three more left. That’ll give her maybe a good ten hours before she starts crashing hard again. And honestly we need to get her out of the shit a lot earlier than that.”

“That’s fine,” Elwurd said. “I just… thank you, Pantal!” At least Stelsa knew the troll’s name now. Elwurd bent over and leaned in next to Chixie, saying something in a voice too low to hear. Chixie nodded, and Elwurd helped her up, supporting her under the arm.

“We need to leave now,” Elwurd said. “They’re going to send soldiers eventually and they’re going to find this.”

Pantal shrugged. “Not much we can do. If you want to try to flee the city, now would be a good time.”

“Wait,” Tyzias said, interrupting the others. “Give me a hand with these two…” She began to drag the body of the taller Army soldier back toward where Chixie’s blood stained the pavement. Stelsa saw the bronze blood on their throat and realized what was happening. She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat and ran to help with the troll’s legs.

Once the body was over the bloodstain, Tyzias let them down. Next, she turned to Elwurd. “Give me that fucking gun.” Elwurd balked at first, but Tyzias insisted. “Seriously. If they find them without weapons, there’s gonna be more questions.” Taking the carbine, Tyzias pulled the bolt back once, removing one round from the chamber. Next, she placed the carbine in the hands of the dead troll and walked over to get the other one from Daraya. “Same deal, Dar.” Daraya handed the gun over right away, and Tyzias once again cycled the weapon before putting it in the hands of the shorter troll who’d been shot before.

“Okay, now it’s time to get fucking going,” Tyzias said. “That isn’t gonna fool anyone for long.”

Elwurd helped Chixie along down the alley, followed by the troll named Pantal and the other one they still didn’t know the name of. Daraya went last, but she stopped when she saw that neither Stelsa nor Tyzias were moving.

“You not hear yourself just now?” she asked. “We gotta get fucking moving and get out of this city before it goes on high alert.”

Stelsa looked at Tyzias and nodded. This was something they’d discussed before.

“We’re not going back,” Tyzias said quietly. “Stels and I are going back to our safehouse here and we’re gonna try to get back in touch with our contact. Something’s fucked up here, and we’re a long way from understanding it.”

“What the fuck?” Daraya looked hurt. “Why? Why would you do that? You just want to get yourself killed?!”

Tyzias laughed at that. “What do you care what we do? Get the fuck out of here and get back to the caverns where it’s safe. Get help for Chixie. Go spend some time with Lynera or something — she’s wound up so tight, she could probably use a bit of loosening.”

“Zizi! Don’t be vulgar!” Stelsa interjected.

Tyzias put up a hand. “I’m just joking. But really, we need to go and so do you.”

“God damn it!” Daraya said. “Don’t get yourself killed doing this! I…” she shifted and looked away. “I look up to you, okay. I don’t want you to fucking die because there was still some stuff I wanted to ask you about. When you got a chance.”

Stelsa reached out and put a hand on Daraya’s shoulder. “We’ll be back before you know it. Just a couple days, tops.”

Tyzias had that half-smile that Stelsa always found so adorable. “Yeah, what Stels said. You want to ask me about whatever, I’ll make time for it when we get back, okay?”

Daraya nodded, and without saying another word, she turned to follow the others back to the access hatch. Soon, they were gone below the streets and the hatch was closed behind them.

“Well this fucking sucks,” Tyzias said, looking at the two bodies in the alley. “Guess we need to get moving, huh?”

* * *

They took an alternate route out of the alley and doubled back a few times, picking smaller back paths that were unlikely to be patrolled. It was a lot easier to move with two people who knew the city well than it must’ve been with five who were largely unfamiliar with it.

Neither of them had said anything to the others, but they’d discussed the plan while waiting for the others. Even if they got Chixie, that was only one small piece of everything. More importantly, they needed information. It wasn’t a hard guess to make that the remnants of Galekh’s insurrection were still making moves, and that meant that there were probably people loyal to him in the city.

Between that and the Army, the situation was starting to feel at least a little bit overwhelming. They were desperately outgunned, facing multiple opponents (both significantly more powerful, and one hidden in the shadows), and chronically under-equipped. There wasn’t any good way that either of them had been able to see that would get them out of the situation easily, and that meant that the only way forward was to keep pushing on.

The only idea they’d been able to agree on was trying to get in touch with their contact again. It was unlikely that she’d been able to make it out of the city, and that meant they still had a chance. Not a particularly good chance, but it was better than literally any other plan they’d been able to think up. There was a special palmhusk in their safehouse they’d been told to use only in dire emergencies, and this was starting to feel distinctly like a dire emergency.

In the meantime, Stelsa wanted to keep Tyzias’ spirits up.

“Aww, she looks up to you,” Stelsa whispered playfully, patting Tyzias on the shoulder. Tyzias grunted, but Stelsa patted her again. “I think she’s got a tiny little pale crush on you, to be honest.”

“No, that’s annoying,” Tyzias mumbled. “I don’t want that.”

“I think it’s cute,” Stelsa replied. “You’ve never had a moirail before.”

“I don’t need a moirail, Stels. I’m good.”

Stelsa wasn’t sure that this was strictly true — Tyzias had a tendency to get so inside her own head that she couldn’t be pried free for days. “Okay, Zizi, if you say so. All I’m saying is that maybe you don’t need a moirail, but maybe she does. Couldn’t you just indulge her?”

“No, this is silly. All she said was she looked up to me and wanted to talk to me.”

Which, to Stelsa, was a pretty clear indication. “You did say you’d talk with her.”

Tyzias groaned. “I know. I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

Stelsa leaned in close and kissed Tyzias on the cheek, seeing her matesprit smile and blush. “Of course, Zizi. We’ve got important work to do.”

“Yeah,” Tyzias said, glaring ahead. “Like finding our contact and asking them what the fuck is going on with all this cloak-and-dagger bullshit.”


	18. The Homeworld Initiative

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 0045 AUT

Ardata had asked that the bridge be cleared and the door guarded, so she was sitting alone in the Commander’s chair that sat in the very heart of the Iustititia. The last cycle had given her lot to think over, and she had realized very quickly that she wasn’t playing at a simple game anymore. She knew that Tagora was probably still lying to her — there was basically nothing she could do about that. Maybe he knew that she knew he was lying and maybe he didn’t, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the High Imperator, and she saw more value in keeping him alive and at least somewhat complacent than spacing him at the next opportunity.

She’d even acknowledged that there was a better-than-none chance that he was actually feeding information to someone — probably the NADF, if he was willing to sell out Galekh’s former associates.

Ardata shrugged to herself and ran her fingers slowly through her hair, smoothing out the strands and idly twisting them in on themselves over and over. She wasn’t overly concerned with whatever Tagora was doing, because it ultimately didn’t matter all that much. The NADF were, by all accounts, little more than a small group who sometimes raided small supply depots. It was an annoyance, but _only_ an annoyance.

What bothered her — what actually got under her skin until it felt like it wasn’t metaphorical anymore — was that she wasn’t sure what was happening in her own hive. She trusted Tagora not to be involved because it seemed like he’d been on the wrong side of all of that previously, and he’d burned whatever bridges he might have had.

But that left so many people unaccounted for — her guards, and intelligence agents, and mechanics, and soldiers, and… the list would keep rolling forever if she let herself sit and dwell on it.

Ardata drew a hand down across her face, groaning to herself. She let the hand drop heavily on the side console attached to the Commander’s chair. Quickly, she pulled up the Fleet database and checked on the reports coming back from the ground assault on Hivefield. The actual occupation had gone about as smoothly as she had any right to expect — a couple soldiers lost in accidents on dropping in, and one dropship had reported a malfunction over the Southern Wastes and then gone off the scope. Ardata was sure that some maintenance chief was going to be culled over that one, but it wasn’t her problem to worry about.

The only red flag report that had shown up since the city was taken was a report of an internal conflict that had resulted in the death of a pair of lowbloods. Ardata rubbed at her temples — _don’t they have anything better to do than shoot each other? Honestly._ But that wasn’t the end of the world either.

She closed the report, and Ardata’s thoughts turned back to the matter of who she could actually trust on the ship. Azdaja had come to her… although she supposed it could all be some long con being pulled by Fleet Intelligence for some reason. _Did the High Imperator ever have to deal with this?_

Of course he didn’t. They were all too afraid of him to do any of this.

But that wasn’t true, was it? All of this had started right under the High Imperator’s nose, and no amount of needless brutality was able to prevent it. So maybe his approach wasn’t, in fact, ideal.

Ardata’s thoughts turned to the dark city of her dreams — the deep, shadowed version of Everdim with the endless streets and twisted, looming towers. She didn’t suppose she’d ever stop seeing that city now — didn’t suppose that the silent denizens of that place would ever stop staring at her as she drifted over it. Ardata clenched a fist and grit her teeth. It wasn’t fair! Wasn’t fair that she’d ended up in a position where she didn’t have a choice but to help the monster.

If only someone else had been in command, or another ship had been in orbit. If only the High Imperator had just fucking died like he should have a dozen sweeps ago.

Ardata leaned forward in her chair and began to cry. She wasn’t noisy about it — she’d learned how to cry quietly over the sweeps. The last half sweep had been hell for her — the continual realization of what she was a part of. _What I’m still a part of._

She wrapped her arms around herself and let the sobs ring out. There was, after all, no one on the bridge to hear. Later she would go back to her quarters and sleep, and then she’d have that same dream again. Violence and death might be commonplace in Alternian society, but you didn’t put a half million lives on your conscience and just walk away from it. Not if you had even a shred of your soul left.

Ardata hoped that she did, but she wasn’t sure anymore.

She closed her eyes and let the tears flow, at least allowing herself some semblance of emotional release. There wasn’t really any other option at this point — she didn’t have a matesprit or a moirail to turn to for comfort and support. Didn’t have a kismesis to push her to keep going. The only thing she had was her own willpower and the vague sense of duty that kept her tied to the Alternian Empire.

So, without even thinking about it, Ardata began to laugh. It wasn’t a gesture born of humor or pleasure, but rather the last desperate cry of someone who had existed on the frayed ends of composure for so long. She laughed at the utter absurdity of the circumstances that had put her in this position. She laughed at the comical farce that was her ability to outlive the High Imperator Petrus Occsor himself.

She laughed, and she laughed…

...and the alert sounded. The one alert she couldn’t ignore without risking immediate culling. The alert that signalled an incoming communication from the Pink Moon.

Ardata Carmia stopped laughing. Everything inside her tensed up as she quickly wiped her eyes and keyed open the communications.

There she was on the viewscreen — the face of Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty Trizza Tethis. There was a time when the Empress hid who she was behind a smile… that wasn’t quite true anymore. She’d changed in the last half sweep — grown more reserved and, Ardata thought, more threatening. The burn scars from the blast on the Iustitia traced down the side of her face and neck, and she did nothing to hide them.

“Your Impassioned Imperious Majesty!” Ardata rose to salute the Empress, but the figure on the viewscreen waved and hand and scowled.

“Sit the fuck down, Ardata.”

Aradata felt every hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. _She knows who I am. She called me by my first name._ She let herself sink down into the chair, trying desperately to hold her surprise.

“You got any of your stupid fucking entourage around?” the Empress asked with a glare. Ardata shook her head, which seemed to be enough for the Empress. “Good. Fuckin’ great. You and I are gonna have a nice chat, Ardata—” every time the Empress used her name it drove a spike of terror into the back of her head — “We’re gonna be just a couple gals talking about what’s been happening.”

“Yes, Empress — the invasion of the City of Hivefield has been going quite well, in fact we—”

“I didn’t say I wanted to hear _you_ fuckin’ talk. I said we’re gonna talk… which means I’m gonna tell you somefin and you’re gonna fucking listen.”

Ardata didn’t say anything — she stared wide-eyed at the figure on the viewscreen.

“I hear we’ve got a leaky fuckin’ ship lately. Someone’s been keeping that good old revolutionary spirit alive, huh?” The Empress squinted and shook her head. “Damn fuckin’ shame.”

“My Empress, I am—”

“ **DID I SAY TO FUCKIN’ TALK?!** ” The Empress’ voice rose to a shout in an instant and Ardata flinched back in the chair so quickly she almost fell out. “You interrupt me again and I’ll have you culled and replaced with someone less chatty. You get that, bitch? Nod once for yes… go put yourself out the airlock for no.”

Ardata nodded once.

“Good. Anyway, I don’t give a shit about any of that. Do whatever the fuck you want with that shit, ‘k?” Ardata nodded this time and said nothing. “Excellent — bitch knows how to fuckin’ learn, I guess.”

The Empress brought a long-fingered hand to her mouth and tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Y’see, I’ve been thinkin’ about my mom — her Imperious Condescension. You know that shit’s a title, right? I don’t even fuckin’ remember her name.” Ardata wasn’t sure that this was necessarily true, but she wasn’t suicidal enough to say so. “Anyway, she was all about that power expansion shit. Conquering new worlds for the glory of the Empire and all that. And that’s never really been my speed…”

The Empress smiled — Ardata never wanted to see that smile again.

“Except, I’m kinda getting the urge to push out a little more. Everything feels so hollow here… and there’s _so much_ out there. What better way to make the people love me than by showing them how powerful I am, right? And I don’t have a High Imperator to do my will anymore… and honestly, idk if I really _need_ one, y’know?”

Ardata stared without blinking — without moving. She was frozen with terror — convinced that if she even moved wrong that she would end up drifting forever among the debris orbiting Alternia.

“So, I’m thinking I need to maybe make a couple changes. Girl — I’m gonna send you something, okay?”

There was a quick chime and a notification popped up on her chair’s console. Looking down, Ardata saw an encrypted file waiting to be opened.

“Go on… take a quick look. Just a peek, then I’ll delete that shit.”

Ardata opened the file. The top of the document was devoid of any kind of department emblem or indication of who’d prepared it. _Who wrote this?!_ The pins and needles crawling along her neck were only getting worse.

_The Homeworld Initiative… what is this?_

Her eyes quickly scanned through the summary of the document. So much of it was squirreled off in subsections she wouldn’t have time to read, but the summary was enough to give her at least a basic understanding of what the project was. What she saw only made the feeling of creeping dread worse.

_This is..._

The headings skimmed by…

Drone improvements.

Military automation.

Reproductive strategy.

Offworld programs.

Selective culling.

_What the fuck is she trying to do? Who prepared this?_

“Pretty fuckin’ nice, huh?” Trizza flicked a finger offscreen and the document disappeared into the electronic aether. “I put a lot of thought into this one. Basically, I need a way to make sure that the kind of shit we’ve got happening here can’t happen again.”

The words she used — _can’t_ , not _won’t._ And Ardata realized something critical — something that she was sure was something the Empress did completely on purpose. For all of her posting on Chittr and acting like she was only concerned with her own fame, the Empress was brilliant. And the answer to her question was right there in front of her — _who prepared this? She did. She wrote it all herself._

Ardata looked up at the face of the Empress in the viewscreen — the scar-lined, smiling face of the woman who had killed the old Empress at the age of eleven sweeps. She hadn’t done that by sheer raw power… she was so much more than that. So much more than the vapid personality she put out on Chittr. So much more than a simple, brutal dictator who ruled through simple force of will.

The rebels had no idea who they were dealing with. She’d had no idea… not until just now.

Ardata remembered a time a half a sweep ago — when everything had begun to fall apart, and she was on the bridge, standing out of the way of the High Imperator when Her Majesty had contacted him.

She’d never seen fear like that on anyone’s face before.

Now, she was beginning to understand why.

The Empress nodded slowly — a gesture not directed at anyone in particular — and spoke softly. “You ever read Petrus’ books on warfare? He’s written a lot of them… they make you read that stuff in the War College still?”

Ardata nodded.

“Good, then you’ll appreciate this.” Her whole demeanor had changed — her whole way of talking. The easy, casual way she spoke had dissolved. This was the hard core of the Empress — the side of her that almost no one saw who was still alive to talk about it. “I’ve read all of them a couple times. Dry shit… but smart. He wasn’t High Imperator for no reason.”

She tapped her fingers absently on her chin.

“There’s a quote I really like from one of his later works — a book called _On Insurrection_ that Her Imperious Condescension almost had him culled over. Because she didn’t like what it had to say. But, you know… he was right. He was smart, and he was loyal to the Empire.”

_Yes, he was. Loyal to the Empire above all else._ Ardata shivered.

“There’s a part near the end where Petrus wrote this — _as long as the conditions which breed rebellion exist, then rebellion is inevitable._ ” She smiled. “See… I’ve been giving that a lot of thought in the past half-sweep.”

Ardata had been wrong before — she’d thought the Empress’ exodus to the Pink Moon had simply been a result of wanting to detach herself from everything that was happening… a way of licking her wounds and not having to think about the ongoing insurrection on her home planet. But she’d been there working on something — something big.

“I think Petrus’ approach was to be ready to put down rebellion when it happened. He saw the Empire as fundamentally responsible for the conditions that caused rebellion — another thing the Condesce didn’t really like to hear. But again… he was right.”

_What the fuck is the Homeworld Initiative about?!_ She wished desperately she’d been able to read more.

“But I was thinking that there’s other ways to make sure those conditions don’t happen. Petrus was modern Empire all the way through — modern military strategy and shit like that. But I like something a bit more old school… you ever hear of the Autarch?”

Ardata shook her head — the name had a vaguely-familiar sound to it, but she couldn’t place it.

“The Autarch was basically the High Imperator while the Signless was on his bullshit. He wrote something that not many people read — the copies were mostly lost in the Summoner’s rebellion. But I’ve read it — the translation from Old Alternian is a little fuzzy but, basically, it goes _if you want to prevent seeds from sprouting, poison the ground._ ” She leaned forward. “I’ve given a lot of thought to what that meant… and I think I’ve got a pretty good idea how it applies.”

Everything started to feel very far away — Ardata could feel her head getting light and she willed herself not to break down while the Empress could still see her. The Empress broke out into a huge smile and clapped her hands together.

“Anyway, that’s my plan, girl! Really excited about all this! You just keep doing your thing and I’ll let you know when I need anyfin.” She winked, and Ardata wanted to scream. “You know one of my advisors tried to tell me that a cerulean wasn’t fit for your command? Can you fuckin’ believe that?! After everything you’ve done… I gutted him myself and had his body spaced.”

With that, the Empress reached out and hit a button and the transmission went dead. In front of her, there was only the blank void of the empty viewscreen.

Ardata sat in place and counted slowly to thirty, just to be sure.

When she was finally certain that the Empress was gone, she doubled over, grabbed her head with her hands, and began to scream.


	19. Poison Seeds

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Independent Fleet Frigate _Decorum_ \- 0418 AUT

Once more, Mallek was sitting alone with his thoughts, and those thoughts wouldn’t let him go anymore. The curve of the planet out of the viewscreen was looking more and more alien to him. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d just gone with the flow — found his way into the Fleet and settled into the kind of pleasantly banal work that the higher bloods had the option of, if they wanted. He couldn’t have done that — couldn’t have just left well enough alone. It was something that was, in the end, utterly unthinkable.

He ran his hand over the shaved side of his head in a gesture that had long ago become synonymous with comfort when he was feeling anxious. He didn’t suppose that it was possible to feel much _more_ anxious than he did right now… although maybe the events of the last cycle proved that this could just be another lie he was telling himself to feel better.

Over the past few perigees, he’d become exceptionally adept at lying to himself.

* * *

Once more, Mallek was sitting across from Amisia at the ridiculous dining table, being served by the rust blood, Fozzer. He didn’t feel much like eating anymore.

“You’ve barely touched your food,” Amisia said around a bite off her fork. “Is it bad? I’ll have Fozzer prepare something else — we’ve got a fully stocked galley here, of course.”

_How very Officer’s Club of you._ “No, I’m fine. I’m just… I’m just not that hungry right now.” _Because betraying my friends has that effect on me, apparently._

Was it technically betraying them? Were they technically his friends? In his pusher, Mallek knew that the answer to both of these questions was a solid _yes,_ but it made him feel better to act like it was still an open debate. It was better, sometimes, to pretend that what you were doing was in some way ambiguous.

Amisia looked down at her plate and skewered another piece of her food with her fork. “You know you did the right thing, right?”

_Is she a goddamn mind reader?!_ But no, she didn’t seem to have _that_ particularly rare ability. Just a natural sense of intuition, he supposed. “What makes you think I don’t know that?”

“Oh, it’s all over your face. You don’t live in my circles for long without being able to read a person,” she said quietly. She set the fork down and steepled her hands, letting her knuckles crack slightly as she did it. “And believe me, I understand how you feel. You had your friends — your comrades-in-arms and all that — and now you’ve effectively put them on the radar for the Alternian Empire. That must feel… terrible.”

He frowned, and he didn’t answer right away.

* * *

_I’ve never felt more alone in my life._

That was the truth of it. He’d known that Galekh wasn’t exactly in favor of a lowblood revolution when he started talking to him. Even though he claimed to be for a better Alternia, there was no denying the disdain he had for the lowbloods. Even when dealing with teals and jades, there had been a barely-disguised sense of superiority. To men like Galekh, there was a clear ordering in society — but they saw it as their duty to “protect” and “uplift” the lower bloods.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing. Even with his insane plan to raise the fuschia wiggler and have the next Heiress under his thumb. When Elwurd had told him about that plan, he’d almost wanted to laugh. Almost… but he’d seen her face when she told the story. Someone had to stop Galekh, after all… she just hadn’t been prepared for it to be her.

_You still haven’t told them about the fuschia egg._ And no, he wasn’t planning to either. That secret had died with Galekh — it seemed like he hadn’t bothered to tell anyone else.

Mallek sat up on the loungeplank and stared out the viewscreen, wishing he was back hive. Even when he’d been watching his every move to avoid being culled by the Empire, it hadn’t felt like this.

Like he was more alone than he’d ever been in his life.

* * *

Finally, he decided on honesty — at least a little bit. “Yes, it does feel terrible. They trusted me, and I’ve just kind of… sold them out. For what?”

Amisia picked up a crystal glass from next to her and drank slowly, her eyebrows raised. “Really? For _what?_ I mean… I’m not _that_ cagey, am I?” She laughed lightly, and Mallek was reminded briefly that she still couldn’t be much more than nine sweeps, if even that. “You didn’t _sell them out_ — you gave them a chance to realize their misguided vision in a real way.”

Mallek frowned and shook his head. “I don’t understand what you mean by that. The Empire’s going to go looking for them.”

“The Empire is already looking for them,” Amisia said evenly. “You know that better than anyone. How many people are even in the New Alternian Defense Force?” She said the name with a sneer of disdain that reminded him so strongly of Galekh. “A couple dozen?”

Mallek shrugged. “I’m not sure… maybe? They’re trying to build contacts with other potential revolutionary cells, I guess.”

“Of course,” Amisia said curtly. “And how well’s that been working for them? Meanwhile, we have people all over the Empire. Our revolutionary movement has allies everywhere — how else would we be able to bomb the High Court’s flagship? How else would we be able to strike the Empire like that?”

“And… the Iustitia, right?” Mallek felt his gut knot up at the memory. “Although I won’t lie… I never thought you’d be able to turn a fucking _purple blood._ ”

Amisia frowned and looked down at the rest of her food. Suddenly, she seemed more interested in picking at it than actually eating it. “No, that’s not… that wasn’t us. Marvus Xoloto was acting on his own.” _She’s annoyed that she can’t figure him out — maybe a little bit scared. Even with him dead, people are still scared of what he was._

But a moment later, she brightened up and stabbed a small root vegetable with the fork. “It doesn’t matter! The clown’s dead, and the High Imperator. It’s only worked out to our advantage.”

“Hmm…” Mallek murmured slowly. “And… what about what happened to Galekh? You know he was killed by…” _By my friend._ “...by someone in the NADF.”

* * *

_I should try to talk to her again._

It was an absolutely ludicrous idea. Maybe not from a technical standpoint — they’d left him all of his personal effects, including his palmhusk — but he couldn’t very well reach out to Elwurd now. What was he supposed to say? _Oh hey, Elwurd, just checking in on you. Sorry for blaming you for the bombing my associates did. No hard feelings, right?_

He sat back on the loungeplank and pulled out his palmhusk anyway, the feeling of the cool metal case feeling good in his hand. Absently, he pulled up the last conversation they’d had…

gaegrl69nice began chatting with snakeBytes on at 4P/9/4S/0819 AUT

Elwurd

so, you stiLL on your buLLshit or no?

Mallek

don’t know what you’re talking about;   
i != on any kind of bullshit;

Elwurd

surrrrrre, Let’s go with that, then.

Mallek

you just texting for no reason or = this you trying to be friendly?

Elwurd

i’m Lonely and there’s no one to taLk to   
daraya and chixie are both out doing important stuff   
can’t i just message my best casuaL acquaintance?

Mallek

funny, because you always messaged me when you needed something;   
i seem to recall you asking to help get you out of the legis watchlist;

Elwurd

you… you know why i asked you for that   
it’s not fair for you to hoLd that over me

Mallek

it = fine, don’t worry about it;   
if you wanna talk, that = fine too;

Elwurd

yeah… maybe Later, maLLek

i’m gonna try to get ahoLd of chixie again

Just a couple cycles, and everything had changed so much. From a casual conversation to getting on a wide broadcast and claiming that the NADF had set off a bomb in a crowded market. Mallek shivered in spite of the warmth of the respiteblock they’d set him up in.

* * *

Amisia pursed her lips and looked at Mallek carefully. Slowly, she took a sip from the glass and set it down carefully. From the side, Fozzer walked up to refill her glass, but she put up a hand to stop him. “I’m good, thanks.” She looked at Mallek for another few seconds before she responded.

“I know that. We had his messages set to mirror to a remote server… just in case. I don’t know who pulled the trigger or stabbed the blade or whatever but… I know he’s dead.” She glanced down at her plate — that last bit of food was still there. “It’s… it sucks, but it’s the way things are. He lived dangerously, and his plan was idiotic.”

“What?” Mallek felt his eyes growing wide.

“He always wanted to move in subtle ways that would work in the back channels. He only barely agreed to the Council’s request to attack the High Court’s ship. There’s no way he would agree to the kind of thing we’ve got planned now.”

“And… what is that?” Mallek suddenly felt _very_ curious. But Amisia shook her head, smiling softly.

“No, I can’t tell you right now. I mean, I have no way of knowing I can trust you not to just turn around and send your former friends in the NADF a message about it. Not that I’d blame you, of course. It’s hard to stop seeing people that way.”

“Seeing people what way?”

“You know,” she smiled in a way that suggested a deep pain behind the mask. “As your friends. You can’t keep doing that.”

He sighed. “I can’t help thinking I just put a target on their backs… for what?!”

“To make a better world. And please, I told you it’s not like that. No one even knows the names, just the big story of the NADF.” She smiled again, still looking sad and lonely, and reached down to finish off the rest of her drink. “If they’re not NADF… if there’s no NADF at all, then what difference does it make? It’s just another shadow for the Empire to chase while the seeds of their destruction are sprouting in their own hive.”

She tapped her finger idly on the empty glass. “You ever read any of Petrus’ books on warfare?”

“The… the High Imperator?” Mallek asked incredulously. “No, I can’t say I have.”

Amisia nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking boring.” She picked up the glass to hand it back to Fozzer, who took it silently and moved back from the table. “But there’s one line I thought was good — _as long as the conditions which breed rebellion exist, then rebellion is inevitable._ ” She smiled. “You see, even the worst man in the Empire understood that. I hear the Empress even had him culled for it, but I think she knew he was right too. There will _always_ be people who want to rise up against their oppressors, and our job is to guide them along that path.”

She slapped the table with a palm and grinned. “Anyway! Time to get some sleep! You’ve got an early morning tomorrow!”

* * *

Mallek groaned and settled back again, wishing for the thousandth time that he’d just stayed in the caverns. He was a fool to get back in touch with Galekh’s old associates. Even more of a fool to get in with them again.

But there was a part of Mallek that knew that Amisia had a point — she had access to resources that the NADF could only dream of. While the NADF was struggling to recruit individuals and keep their own ranks from dwindling to nothing, Amisia and her allies were working behind the scenes to topple the regime that they all labored under.

So why was it that this all felt wrong? Just because of that latent sense of betrayal? Or was there something deeper there?

Mallek took out the palmhusk and quickly began to type.

snakeBytes began chatting with gaegrl69nice on at 0432 AUT

Mallek

i know what i did = fucked up;   
but please just do something for me;

stop all of this bullshit;   
stop pretending you know what the fuck = going on;   
stop acting like a bunch of revolutionaries;

i was the same way too;   
but it != like that in real life - there = too much going on all the time;

walk away from this and let them do what they’re doing;   
they’ll take the empire down from the inside!;

No sooner had he set the palmhusk down than there was a knock at the door. Slowly dragging himself to his feet, Mallek crossed the room and opened it a crack. Of course, the gently smiling face of Fozzer was on the other side.

“Miss Erdehn wants a brief word with you, Mr. Adalov,” he said in a voice that was calm, but that also conveyed with no degree of uncertainty that this wasn’t a request. “Make sure you bring your palmhusk.”

“Uh… sure, okay.” Mallek checked his pocket and then stepped out of the room. “Do you mind if I ask what this is about, specifically?”

Fozzer shook his head. “Miss said not to tell you anything, sorry.”

* * *

He led Mallek through the corridors that linked the officers’ quarters of the ship and up through the main corridors themselves. As they walked, Mallek finally saw other crew at work. Universally, they simply ignored him and continued on about their tasks. Up one deck and down a few more corridors, they were finally at the bridge. Fozzer let him in through the security door, standing politely to the side. Amisia was standing in front of a large bank of viewscreens.

Mallek tried to walk forward to talk to her, but Fozzer reached out a hand to stop him.

“Please give me your palmhusk, Mr. Adalov.” Mallek glared at him, but then pulled out his palmhusk and handed it to the rust blood.

The first thing Fozzer did was take the palmhusk and snap it, sending a small shower of broken glass to the deck.

“What the fuck?!” Mallek yelled. “That was mine!”

“And now it’s trash,” Amisia said from the front of the bridge. “As much as I hate to deprive you of your personal property, there’s some things we need to discuss if you’re serious about helping us.”

“What does that have to do with my palmhusk?!” Mallek growled. “Seems like you could’ve just left it alone.”

“Look,” Amisia said quietly, “if you want to know what’s going on, then this is the price of admission. I think it’s quite a small one… but I can’t have you talking to your old associates at all. I really do want to trust you, Mallek.”

Amisia took a step toward him, and he was struck by how inexperienced she was — she was still a teenager. Almost still a wiggler. And yet, the way she talked it was like she’d been involved in this from the beginning.

“I know about the fuschia egg,” she said — and Mallek felt his knees get all watery. Seeing his face, Amisia smiled. “Oh don’t worry about it. I don’t want to raise the next Heiress. That was a bad plan. And I know that the NADF isn’t stupid enough to do that either — they’ll keep that egg in stasis for a thousand sweeps if they have to. Right?”

Mallek’s jaw hung open.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then! In any case, I don’t care about that. It would only make the actual plan harder to carry out. See, I’ve been putting together a hell of a good plan. Not by myself, of course… I have some help. But it’s good help. I could use your help too… for that one final touch.”

She handed him a portable screen. Mallek took the screen in his now-shaking hands and looked down. He recognized some of the plans and schematics displayed, and at least one of the names — _Iustitia._

“What is this? What do you need me for? To destroy the ship or something? You know a target that big isn’t going down easy, and there’s no way I can get into the systems remotely.”

She grinned and her eyes squinted up behind her glasses. In that moment, she really did look like a wiggler. “Oh don’t be silly — we’re just waiting on a couple more little pieces and then… you’re gonna help me upgrade my flagship!”


	20. Long Walk Back

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Southern Wastes - 1123 local time (0223 AUT)

The first part of the trip had been in silence — a slow crawl through the thick weeds that concealed their presence. Most of the way, Elwurd had basically been half-carrying Chixie along, eventually moving to just carry the bronze blood on her back. Every time Chixie bumped up against Elwurd’s body armor, she winced… but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t even make a sound as they walked along, ever-wary of the possibility of watching eyes from above.

Once, they heard the scream of the drone… but it was distant and quickly faded away. Then the silence was back in on them, and Elwurd could only hear the sound of Chixie’s labored breathing and the footsteps of the others around her.

“You’re gonna be okay, Chix,” Elwurd said quietly. Chixie only grunted in response — it was probably about the best she could manage under the circumstances. “We’re gonna get back to the caverns and get your patched up right. Bronya’s gotten really good at this stuff!”

From her back, she heard Chixie laugh and respond quietly. “You sound worried.”

“Well, maybe this moirail thing is getting to my head!” She was trying to keep that creeping fear out of her voice, and it wasn’t easy. “Maybe I’m just fucking worried for no goddamn reason.”

Chixie’s voice was a whisper — it was probably all she could realistically manage. “Well… I think you care a lot more about people than you think. I think you still put up this front to protect yourself… and I think you’re jealous of Daraya and Lynera.”

“No…” Elwurd could feel her face burning hot with embarrassment. “That’s not true. They’re not even red for each other.”

Chixie laughed again. “You know that’s not true anymore — you’ve seen them together.”

“Well…” Elwurd stammered. “It’s still fine. I’m fine with that. Quadrants are… they’re stupid anyway.” She shifted Chixie so that she’d be more comfortable. “Daraya and I are both grown. We can do what we want.”

“Mmm… you’re such a shitty liar,” Chixie said with a soft laugh. “I can tell even right now.”

“That’s the blood loss talking.” Her face wasn’t getting any _less_ hot now. “Just being ridiculous.”

“Ever the aloof one, right? _You can’t let her die_?” Elwurd felt Chixie push the side of her cheek down against the back of her neck. “You know if I had any interest in red shit, you’d be right at the top of that list, right?”

Elwurd felt her blood pusher racing — she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned forward and focused on keeping Chixie steady as they continued along. They were well out of the weeds now, traveling along the low scrub that dotted the Wastes. Before long, they’d be in range of the cover of Polypa’s rifle.

Chixie was leaning against her, breathing heavily… but breathing. Elwurd didn’t want to admit how terrified she’d been to see the bronze blood leaking out onto the cold pavement of the city streets. She was thinking back to something that Bronya had once said to her after a fight — about how she didn’t really _care_ about anyone, just that she latched onto whoever would give her attention.

Maybe that was true, at least a little bit. She glanced up at Daraya, who was still walking up ahead of her.

“She’s not trying to hurt you,” Chixie said quietly. Elwurd knew the others couldn’t hear. “They care about each other, and she cares about you. She’s got a lot of room in her pusher and all that.”

“I know,” Elwurd said testily. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“I mean… you’re not that different,” Chixie whispered — and Elwurd felt her pusher lurch. “I know how you feel about me.” Elwurd started to stammer out a response but Chixie made a shooshing noise with her lips. “Come on… it’s fine. As long as you know I’ll never feel that way about you, we can make it work. Life’s complicated…”

“God, I know.”

Up ahead, Daraya signalled for them to stop. As soon as she caught up with the rest, they all crouched together — Elwurd set Chixie down for Pantal to examine. They quickly checked the dressing on her side, nodding along as they checked the front and back.

“Okay,” they said, “everything looks good. No leaking, no excess bleeding. You’re still able to breathe okay?” Chixie nodded, which seemed good enough for Pantal. “Okay, cool — we’ll change the dressing when we get to your sniper’s perch. She really does need medical attention that I can’t give her, but it’ll have to do until we can get back to that cavern.”

“It’s starting to… to hurt again…” Chixie managed to get out. Pantal nodded at her.

“The synthedrine is wearing off. But I don’t want to give you too much because we only have a little bit. We’ll try to get to the sniper position and then give you another shot, okay?”

She smiled, but it looked painful for her to do it. “Okay… yeah…”

Elwurd bent down and picked Chixie up. And for a moment, it felt so tender that she almost forgot herself. Chixie smiled at her and blushed a little. “You swept me off my feet!” Elwurd smiled and helped her onto her back again.

Together, they all set out again. This time, Elwurd walked closer to Daraya — close enough to talk to her.

“Hey, Dar, you okay?” Elwurd asked quietly. Daraya looked over and shook her head slowly, shifting to adjust her body armor and the rifle slung around her shoulders.

“I don’t know.” Daraya’s voice was shaking. “I guess I’m… I’m dealing with a lot right now, okay? A lot of different emotions and a lot of shit happening all at once. I wasn’t expecting to see my friend get fucking shot today. Or to see…” she trailed off, and then grit her teeth. “I wasn’t expecting to have to see more folks die, okay?”

Elwurd walked a bit closer to Daraya and nodded. “I know… look, I’m sorry about being weird earlier.”

“Weird?” Daraya said — and it took her a minute to catch up to what Elwurd meant. “Oh, you mean about me and Lynera? It’s… it’s fine. You said you’re not jealous. I believe you.”

“Okay,” Elwurd said, and they lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence as they kept walking along and Elwurd kept debating whether or not she should say anything. _You need to just tell her what’s going on. A little bit of emotional honesty wouldn’t kill you._

Elwurd drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. “Okay, look… maybe I wasn’t being entirely honest with you before. About the whole jealousy thing…”

Daraya sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, no shit, El… no offense, but you’re not nearly as good at hiding your feelings about stuff as you think you are.” Elwurd blushed at the comment but said nothing. “Anyway… ugh… I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re not going to… yell at me? Tell me I’m just a piece of shit?” Elwurd could feel genuine confusion.

“No, I guess not,” Daraya responded with a shrug. “And why should I? You do realize I’m going through my own shit right now, right? I… I just had to kill someone, El. You… you _know_ what that feels like.” Elwurd felt a bolt of fear shoot through her body. _Yeah… I do._

Daraya sighed again and continued. “And on top of that I… I keep almost getting killed, or being right next to this kinda shit. Ever since Skylla basically saved my stupid ass in the caverns.” Daraya grew very quiet, and Elwurd could see the tears speckling her eyes even in the dim evening light.

Her blood pusher felt like it was about to break inside of her. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to miss someone so much after only spending such a short time with them, but somehow… somehow the stolen potential of all the time she could’ve had with Skylla pressed down on her in a way that hurt more than anything had in a long time. She’d spent so much time running from her own past, and then when she finally met someone who she thought could actually understand that…

Elwurd was starting to cry now too. She didn’t want to cry, but it was going to happen regardless. On her back, Chixie whispered softly — “It’s okay. You’re okay.” She leaned her head back to push up against Chixie’s chin and smile.

“I know, Chix… thanks.” Daraya bowed her head forward and smiled sadly.

“I guess I’m a little jealous of you too. You’ve got a moirail who cares about you, and you seem so much more comfortable with all of this quadrant shit than I am. Me? I can’t figure any of it out. Pitch for Lynera… red for Lynera… fuck… Elwurd, I think I fell in _love_ with her. And I keep wondering about other people… wondering if this is just how I’m supposed to feel.”

She laughed and slid closer to Elwurd. “You know that I was actually fantasizing about Bronya? Just popped into my fucking head and… god… I don’t know why I’m even telling you all of this.”

Elwurd didn’t say anything — she just let the woman talk. This woman, who she had red feelings for but wasn’t sure she was in love with. Someone that it felt good to fuck, but maybe not someone she wanted to spend her whole life with.

And maybe she wasn’t wrong for that — it just hadn’t been what Bronya wanted. Things were… complicated.

“Thing is,” Daraya said with a laugh. “I _liked_ thinking about it.” She blushed deeply and leaned in close — seemingly unbothered by the fact that Chixie could absolutely hear her. “Her and Lyerna and me all in a big pile together and…” she blew out a breath and laughed again. “Fuck. Literally, I guess.” Another laugh, nervous this time. “Why am I even saying this to you? You’re not my moirail.”

Elwurd shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

“That all sounds exhausting,” Chixie interrupted. “No offense, Daraya, but… fuck!”

Daraya shrugged and shook her head, looking over her shoulder at Chixie. “I don’t know… I guess that’s the honest answer.” She smiled and looked straight ahead again. “Something to keep thinking about when we get a quiet mome—” She stopped talking abruptly and cocked her head to the side.

In the distance, Elwurd hear it too — the scream of the drone’s engines picking up. In an instant, every thought left Elwurd’s head except _we need to move! We’re out in the open!_

“Holy shit!” Daraya yelled out loud as she brought her rifle around. It was useless — the small arms wouldn’t do a thing against the drones. “We need to get the fuck out of here!”

Up ahead, the rocky formation where Polypa was waiting stood out against the night sky. Elwurd nodded forward and Pulled Chixie’s arms tight around her. “We have to get to the rocks before the drone sees us!” _Polypa will get it… hopefully. Maybe._

Without waiting for confirmation, she began to run. She held Chixie as still as possible… and she ran as fast as she could. The noise of the drone grew louder… and Elwurd could tell that it was angling for them now. They’d been seen.

“We have to move!” she shouted to the others. They began to run, leaning forward and keeping their eyes set on the rock formation in front of them. It was only maybe a hundred yards… maybe two hundred. It might as well be on the other side of the planet. The sound of the drone’s engines kept getting louder.

Without warning, there was a loud shattering noise from above — the sound of something heavy hitting the drone followed by a split second’s delay before she heard the heavy _crack_ of a distant rifle. And it hadn’t sounded like it was coming from the formation up ahead. Elwurd didn’t slow her pace — instead, she held onto Chixie and continued to move toward the rocks.

She did allow herself one quick glance back to see the drone — it was listing and falling towards the ground, it’s engines unable to keep it aloft any longer. But the sound of the rifle had been too far away… _who the fuck shot at them?_

It didn’t matter, Elwurd doubled down and kept running. Before long, she was running into the jagged crag of rock with the others. She quickly set Chixie down and ran over to where Polypa was set up with the anti-drone rifle.

“Was that you?” Elwurd shouted at her, already knowing the answer. Polypa shook her head.

“Someone was firing from inside the city. The drone is damaged and it’ll set down for repairs.”

Looking out over the rocks, Elwurd could see the drone circling around, getting lower and lower as it sputtered toward the horizon. Polypa squinted. “Whoever shot it… they did that on purpose…”

Elwurd looked up from where she was crouching next to Chixie. “What are you talking about?”

“Sorry… I’m just thinking out loud. Don’t worry about it.” But Polypa kept the anti-drone rifle up, even as the drone disappeared down onto the packed soil of the Wastes.

From the distance, coming from the other direction, there was another noise — the low, heavy sound of a dropship flying in along the terrain. Polypa quickly re-adjusted, and Elwurd saw that she was tracking the incoming dropship with the rifle now.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Elwurd asked. She leaned over to Chixie and patted her shoulder, muttering — “It’s gonna be okay, Chix. We’ll be back hive and having awkward relationship conversations before you know it.” Chixie smiled at her and mouthed _I know._

Pantal crouched down next to Chixie and quickly checked the dressing again, then took out the two syringes from the medical kit and quickly jammed them into Chixie’s side. Within seconds, the bronze blood’s breathing evened out again and she smiled.

“Thanks, doc… feels better…” Chixie’s smile got a little bit dopey. Pantal shrugged and stood up.

“Let’s just get you to safety, okay?”

Elwurd helped Chixie to her feet and quickly led her to where the deercats were hitched behind the rocks. The sound of the dropship was still growing louder in the distance, and Elwurd tried to move as quickly as she thought Chixie could move. She helped her up onto a deercat and settled her in place.

“I’ll take the front of yours, okay? We’ll have to double up, so might as well be us.”

Chixie smiled. “Thanks, El. You’re… you’re good. Wasn’t kidding about the red thing, y’know… almost wish it _was_ my thing. You’re really sweet.”

“No, I’m not,” Elwurd said quickly, trying to hide her face by turning it away. “You’re just stupid from the meds.”

“Maybe,” Chixie replied quickly… but she smiled and waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it — I’m just playing around.”

The noise of the dropship was loud now — roaring nearby and echoing off the rocks around them. Leaving Chixie on the deercat, Elwurd ran back around the rocks to get the others. Polypa was still aiming the rifle at the dropship, which now seemed to be making its way toward where the drone had gone down. Something felt very wrong, and even though Elwurd wasn’t sure what, she still very much wanted to not be out here in the open like this.

“Polypa, we need to go,” she said quickly, tapping Polypa’s shoulder. “Chixie’s on the deercat and she really needs medical attention!”

“I agree,” Pantal said from nearby. “The longer you wait, the more likely that it is your friend will suffer serious consequences.”

“Fine,” Polypa said back. “But there’s something I need to see first.”

With a shrug, Elwurd turned back to the others. “Daraya, can you help get Zebede and Pantal mounted up?” Daraya nodded and motioned to those two, but Pantal shook their head.

“No, I want to know what this one’s thinking.” They were pointing at Polypa, who sighed.

“There’s something about the way that dropship is flying… and they’re headed towards where the drone went down.”

“Maybe they’re making repairs?” Daraya asked from the side. But Elwurd could see Pantal’s face — they were having a similar thought to Polypa.

Pantal tapped their chin. “No… that’s not a repair ship… it’s a transport.”

“You know what… fuck it,” Polypa said. She adjusted the rifle. “Cover your ears.” Elwurd saw her finger moving and quickly slapped her hands over her ears. Just in time — the rifle boomed and kicked back heavily. After about a second, the dropship in the distance had something flare on its right engine, and a plume of smoke started to rise up from it. The ship was still flying in the same basic course, but it was losing altitude.

“What the hell was that?!” Daraya yelled. “Are you trying to get us all killed by the fucking Empire?!”

“I don’t think that’s Empire,” Pantal said quietly — their voice carried in the silence that had come in after the sound of the rifle firing. “There’s no reason the Empire would fly a dropship in after a drone like that. Someone else is—”

They never got to finish the sentence. There was a brief, insane moment where Elwurd couldn’t even process what was happening — she was watching Pantal talk, and they were explaining something that was starting to make sense. It was starting to connect together — the shot that had come from inside the city… the drone… the dropship. Something was happening right under their noses, and it felt like this was all a game that someone else was far more adept at playing than they were.

In a fraction of a second, those thoughts all sped through Elwurd’s mind.

And then they stopped when Pantal’s jaw exploded into a mist of teal.

Half of their face fell away, and their body hit the dry dirt below heavily — teal was everywhere. In the distance, Elwurd heard the crack of a rifle… a fraction of a second behind the projectile that had already struck.

Without thinking, she pulled Polypa down, kicking the olive blood’s leg out from under her and dropping down behind the cover of the rocks, stumbling into the muddy teal pool that was forming next to Pantal’s body. A short second after she grabbed Polypa, something heavy cracked through the air where she’d been and struck a rock behind them with a heavy noise and splintered shards tossed into the air.

Daraya was already on the ground, having grabbed Zebede and pulled him down as well.

“What the fuck?!” she screamed. Elwurd looked at Polypa, and she saw pure terror mixed with absolute understanding. “Who’s shooting at us?!” Daraya continued, her eyes growing wild and frantic. She looked like she was about to try to stand up and peer over the edge of the rocks, but Elwurd reached out and grabbed her, sliding around Pantal’s body.

“No!” She yelled. “Don’t stand up. They’re firing at us…”

“It’s gotta be the rifle that took down the drone,” Polypa said. “Nothing else has that kind of range. Fuck!”

“Okay, we need to go,” Elwurd said quickly. She could feel the shaking terror starting in her own guts — the feeling that she needed to throw up and use the bathroom and scream all at the same time. “Dar, take short-stack her down to the lusii and keep out of sight.”

“No no no,” Zebede said in a voice that was already well into the domain of panic. “What about them?” He was pointing at Pantal’s body, lying in the dirty in a growing pool of teal with half their face missing.

“We’re fucking leaving them!” Polypa yelled. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Keeping below the cover of the rocks, Daraya and Zebede slid along the hard dirt until they disappeared around the rocks.

“What the fuck do we _do?!_ ” Elwurd asked frantically. “We have to ride into their line of fire to get back and that gun will take out a lusus no problem.”

“We’re gonna wait about twenty minutes and then we’re gonna go anyway.” Elwurd shot her a look of confusion, but she wasn’t done talking. “Whoever’s firing at us isn’t the Army… and I’m pretty sure that dropship isn’t either. Something fucky’s happening here, but whoever it is just gave their position away to every soldier in the area. So we wait for them to get the hell out of their and then we ride back as quickly as we can.”

Polypa sat back heavily against the rocks and slumped down — so Elwurd sat right next to her. In front of them, the body of the teal blood she’d barely gotten to know. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t stop staring at the grotesque mass that had replaced their lower face and most of their neck. The anti-drone rounds weren’t intended to be used on people… but they were certainly effective on them.

“They were a soldier,” Polypa said quietly. “I’d put money on it. They knew something was up with that dropship… fucking damn it… I wish I’d gotten another shot off.”

Elwurd closed her eyes tightly, but the image of the body in front of her was still there. Even so, she didn’t open her eyes again. She wasn’t going to… even if she had to ask Polypa to guide her over to the lusus, she didn’t want to look at Pantal’s mangled body anymore.

“I hate this…” she whispered to herself. Next to her, she felt a hand on her shoulder — firm, yet strangely tender.

“I know,” Polypa said in a low voice. “Me too.”


	21. Action / Reaction

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1204 local time (0304 AUT)

Konyyl’s squad had gone through a few duty shifts since they’d landed in Hivefield, and the situation wasn’t getting any less boring. Comms had a report of gunfire a couple hours before, but it had turned out that it was just a couple stupid grunts who decided to get into a quick-draw against each other and both lost. Their squad would probably ditch the bodies to rot somewhere after they grabbed their equipment.

Beyond that, everything was almost painfully dull. Konyyl wished she had something to occupy her mind — her thoughts kept wandering off to unpleasant places.

_How’d I end up back in this position, anyway?_

“Sarge? I was saying, you want more coffee?” Marsti was standing above her holding out the same metal cup as before. Konyyl smiled and nodded.

“Sure… but it’s Konyyl and Marsti when we’re not on shift, right?”

“You got it, Konyyl.” Marsti smiled and took a seat next to Konyyl, raising her cup in a mocking toast. “Here’s to our glorious invasion of the city of Hivefield. Taken with minimal casualties.”

Konyyl snorted at that and took a long draft of the bitter, acidic coffee. “Wouldn’t be any if folks weren’t so fucking careless.”

“Fair enough. Any word on when we’ll be redeploying somewhere with an ablution block?”

“No idea,” Konyyl said matter-of-factly. Command had been painfully vague in their last few updates, only hinting that they would be eventually getting more permanent accommodations inside the city. There was, theoretically, a series of transport ships on the way with some prefab command hives and barracks. “Afraid that I’m still pretty close to the bottom of the hill as far as shit-rolling goes.”

Absently, Konyyl glanced down at her palmhusk to see if Azdaja had gotten back to her yet.

kull4hire began chatting with daja9001 at 1132 AST (0232 AUT)

Konyyl

hey daja what’s UP?   
i’m just sitting here bored out of my mind cause they got us on guard duty   
what’s going on with you?

Azdaja

||| Nothing much, actually. |||   
||| At this point I’m mostly just sitting around waiting on nothing. |||

Konyyl

awww, no fun shit to do for FIS?   
that sucks

Azdaja

||| Well, the Commander has cleared the bridge. |||   
||| I believe there is something I can do to help, however. |||

Konyyl

nice!   
any idea if you might get deployed down here?

Azdaja

||| At this point, I think it’s unlikely. |||

||| But… I suppose I could make a request to conduct an investigation. |||   
||| Your command specifically would need inspection, correct? |||

Konyyl

oh you KNOW IT!   
daja that’d be fucking GREAT!   
i miss you

Azdaja

||| I miss you as well, Konyyl. My work up here is… stressful. |||

Konyyl

well lemme know when you find out if you can come down for a bit!

“Special someone? Moirail… matesprit?” Marsti took a sip of her coffee and smiled. But the question hit Konyyl right in the gut. _Skylla._

“Matesprit,” she said. “He’s up on the Fleet’s orbital flagship doing some shit for Fleet intel. I…” _I used to have a moirail but she died._ She didn’t finish the sentence.

“Important work,” Marsti said thoughtfully. “Service to the Empire and all that.”

Konyyl shrugged. “I guess. Never was much a fan of all the games. Rather just have a straight-up fight.”

Marsti nodded and fell silent as she kept drinking the coffee. When she was done, she shook out the last bits of grounds from the bottom of the metal cup and got up to go put the cup back in her pack. That done, she sat down next to Konyyl again and brought her knees up to her chest, pressing up against her body armor.

“Tell me about him,” she said quietly. “What’s he like?”

Konyyl shrugged. “He’s a big fucking dork, but I like him anyway.” She laughed. “That’s not fair… he’s smart and we used to do a lot of jobs together right before we both got recruited.” She frowned. _Wish I could go back to that._ “Mostly local folks that needed taking care of — straightforward stuff.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, I do kinda miss how things used to be.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on the top of her body armor. “So… moirail too? Kismesis?”

“You’re real interested in my quadrants, Marsti. Why’s that?” Konyyl didn’t mind, but she also wanted to keep the conversation going — she was so bored.

“No offense, Sarge… Konyyl. I’m just curious. I don’t have much of a personal life to discuss so I’m gonna pry into yours.”

Konyyl finished her coffee in one gulp and set the cup down. “Fair enough. Well… I don’t have any other quadrants filled. I… I had a moirail not too long ago. It… it didn’t work out.”

“What happened? They leave? You dump ‘em?”

“Not exactly,” Konyyl said on top of a heavy sigh. “She died.”

Marsti didn’t say anything right away — she just looked at Konyyl carefully, as if gauging what she should say next. For some reason, Konyyl found it infuriating.

“Stop looking at me like that, Specialist!” Konyyl snapped. “I’m not some wiggler who just lost their lusus. We live in a dangerous world… people die all the fucking time.”

“But you miss her, don’t you?” Marsti’s voice was quiet — _why the fuck is her voice so quiet right now?!_ Konyyl could feel the wet-hot boil of tears starting behind her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was start crying in front of her entire squad. She glanced around quickly — the group on watch was outside the storefront and everyone else was trying to get some sleep while they waited for their shift.

_I love yyou._

“Of course I fucking miss her!” Konyyl hissed under her breath. “She got involved in something bad and she got herself killed way too early.” Konyyl took a deep breath and held it for a second. “And every fucking day goes by I miss her. I’m being stupid… we were moirails for a few days, but…” She wasn’t about to open up to her medic about how she felt like a piece of her life had died with Skylla. How she’d started to really see her as integral to her well-being as Azdaja… just for different reasons.

“It’s okay, Konyyl,” Marsti reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else. And don’t worry… I won’t say anything to the rest of the squad.” She smiled, and Konyyl felt herself blushing a little bit before she regained her composure.

“Yeah… make sure you don’t do that, Specialist. That would be very bad… for you.” She sighed. “Marsti… thanks.”

“Sure thing Kon—” In mid-sentence, the sound of the rifle report blasted then into full alert. Konyyl sat straight up and immediately grabbed her nearby auto-rifle. She was on her feet in an instant. Next to her, Marsti was already strapping on her carbine and grabbing her medic’s bag.

_That was a big fucking gun._

“Maxlol, get the fuck up!” Konyyl yelled to the sleeping form of her gold blood comm specialist. Kuprum sat up, blinking thickly.

“What’s wrong, Sarge?” he said with a tired edge to his voice. _How the fuck did he sleep through that?!_ All around her, the other soldiers were waking up and grabbing their gear.

“I said get the fuck up and grab your shit!” She finished slinging her own kit on and tossed him the communications rig. “Get on the tacNet and find out what the fuck is going on!”

Kuprum was up now, and he moved quickly. Grabbing the rugged field computer and headset, he quickly patched into the local tactical network. His face was a mask of confusion.

“Sarge,” he said, “we’ve got reports of a drone hit nearby. Heading down to the east of the city. Tactical command says… there’s a dropship off course too. They’re requesting ID now.”

_That rifle shot was nearby._ Konyyl nodded. “Everyone gear up, we’re breaking post and finding out what the fuck is going on.”

In the distance, there was another rifle shot — identical to the first, but echoed from far away. A few moments more, and the first rifle sounded out — loud and clear as it echoed through the city. Konyyl had a good idea of where the shooter was probably located.

“They’ve gotta be in the central tower,” she said. “Does tacNet have anything on the location of the first shooter?”

Kuprum shook his head. “No, Sarge, they’re trying to locate them.” As soon as he said it, another shot sounded out, then a quick pause, then another. This time, Kuprum perked up. “Tactical confirms muzzle flash on top of the central tower!”

“Okay, then that’s where we’re going!”

* * *

Konyyl was happy to finally be moving again — leading the column of soldiers quickly through the streets of Hivefield and towards the central tower that loomed over the city itself. The building served as a combination of housing for the jade and teal bloods in the area, as well as working space for future Legiscorpus recruits as they handled various administrative tasks.

As they approached the tower, the sound of more rifle shots occasionally sounded out, echoing off the buildings. Konyyl was having a hard time placing the exact type of rifle, but it was clearly something heavy — some kind of anti-material rifle, maybe?

According to Kuprum’s updates as they traveled toward the tower, the situation had suddenly become extremely chaotic. The off-course dropship had been hit and was refusing to respond to communication. The drone was already on the ground and command was trying to scramble a team to retrieve it. It felt like everything that was happening was connected somehow, but Konyyl didn’t have the pieces to connect everything.

But it didn’t matter — her squad arrived at the base of the tower. She grabbed Marsti.

“You stay down here with an overwatch team. The rest of us are going up to find out what the fuck’s happening.” Marsti nodded without saying anything, and Konyyl rallied the rest of the team and turned towards the building.

Inside, the lobby was abandoned. At the end, there was a bank of elevators designed to get the residents to where they needed to go. She led her team to the elevators and jammed the buttons.

“We’ll ride up to the top floor, then use the access stairs to hit the roof,” she said. “Stay tight and look out.”

A minute later, the elevator arrived. It was large, but barely enough to hold her team — she had the last soldier turn back to join the overwatch team. As they ascended to the top floor of the building, the team quickly checked their weapons and body armor. Konyyl grunted to herself as she readied the auto-rifle — _at least this is something to do._

As soon as the elevator hit the top floor, the soldiers piled out and took up positions along the corridor, moving quickly down toward the stairs at the other end. This was it — the moment where she put at least one small piece of the day’s puzzle into place.

“Maxlol, stay back with me. The rest of you, breach that fucking door.” Konyyl pointed to the door to the stairs and the other four soldiers quickly stacked up behind it, with the lead one testing the door slowly. It must’ve been locked, because they motioned to the second troll, who stepped forward with a breaching charge.

Something was wrong.

The soldier slapped the shaped charge on the door and set up the detonator. The soldiers all stepped back a bit from the door and took cover to blow the door.

_They’re gonna know our tactics._ Konyyl felt a hard lump in her throat.

“Don’t blow the d—”

But it was too late. The explosion of the shaped charge paled in comparison to the massive roar of the explosion that filled the hallway, knocking Konyyl and Kuprum on their backs.The first two trolls by the door were blown to ragged pieces by the blast, and the third didn’t fare much better. The only one who even seemed to still be alive was the last in line — a bronze blood who’d been partly sheltered from the blast. Even he was writhing on the ground.

Her ears were ringing, and she’d somehow ended up on the ground. As the world began to resolve itself, she reached out and dragged herself over to Kuprum.

“Get our medic on the fucking line! Get her here!” Kuprum groaned and looked hazily as Konyyl as she grabbed his collar and shook him.

“What’s happening, Sarge?”

“What’s happening is _get out fucking medic up here now!_ ”

Smoke drifted back through the corridor from the hole that had once been the door up to the roof. Smoke that mixed with the screams of a dying bronze blood and the rushing of the wind outside, and nothing else.


	22. Triage

vengefulSpirit began chatting with grubsittersClub and foreverVigilant at 1215 AST (0315 AUT)

Daraya

▼We’re heading back now — ETA 2 hours.▼   
▼▼▼Get ready to do surgery!▼▼▼

Lynera

-!!!SURGERY?!!!   
-What happened out there?!

Daraya

▼▼We took fire!▼▼   
▼▼▼Chixie’s hurt, some teal blood’s dead!▼▼▼

Bronya

Wait what?!   
1\. Stelsa?!   
2\. Tyzias?!

Daraya

▼▼NO!▼▼   
▼▼▼Someone we met in the city - but Stelsa and Tyzias are staying behind▼▼▼

Bronya

WHAT?! Why?!

Lynera

-Daraya what happened out there?!

Daraya

▼Look it’s a lot to explain right now!▼   
▼▼But Chixie is _shot_ and she needs medical attention!▼▼

▼She’s hanging in there but she won’t forever.▼

Bronya

What about   
1\. Polypa   
2\. Elwurd   
3\. YOU?!

Daraya

▲Polypa and Elwurd are fine.▲

▼Well, not fine but they’re not injured or anything.▼   
▼▼Elwurd’s freaking out because her moirail got shot.▼▼

Lynera

-!!!!WHAT ABOUT YOU?!!!!

Daraya

▲I’m fine! I’m fine, don’t worry about me!▲   
▼▼Someone was shooting at us and hit that teal blood...▼▼   
▲▼But there was an explosion in the city and then they stopped.▼▲

Bronya

...

Lynera

-!!If you don’t come back safely I will hate you FOR REAL this time!!   
-!!!I AM NOT KIDDING!!!

vengefulSpirit began chatting with grubsittersClub and foreverVigilant at 1357 AST (0457 AUT)

Daraya

▲▼About fifteen out.▼▲   
▼Hope you’re ready for this.▼

Bronya

Yes, we’re ready.   
1\. I have prepared a room for surgery.   
2\. I am adequately trained in lusus medicine and there should be sufficient carry-over.   
3\. Lynera will be assisting me.

Lynera

-!!Are you SURE you’re okay?!!

Daraya

▲▲Seriously, Lynera, I’m FINE!▲▲

▼I mean not FINE but I’m not HURT!▼

Bronya

Please return safely to us.   
I… we…   
Please stay safe.

* * *

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1612 local time (0712 AUT)

Daraya had tried to wait in the common room while Bronya and Lynera operated on Chixie in the room they’d set up as a makeshift surgical suite. After a while, she found that being out around everyone just made her even more restless, so she went back to her quarters. Inside, she paced the room… back and forth, moving from the desk to the recupercoon and back in a pattern that repeated itself over and over.

All she’d wanted to do was have some kind of freedom to be herself. To not have to live the rest of her life isolated in some conclave because the Empire demanded it. She’d never wanted to have to watch others get hurt. Never wanted to hurt anyone. Never wanted to watch anyone die.

Never wanted to kill.

Daraya had no idea when she’d started to cry, but once it began there was no stopping it. She sniffled loudly and wiped at her eyes… and the tears just came back again. Physically she was fine — she hadn’t taken so much as a scratch from the beginning of all of this. But inside, her mind was a storm of feelings that didn’t seem to get along with each other. Even having Lynera and Bronya there to…

_Why do you keep thinking about BRONYA — what is wrong with you?!_ She shook her head. Bronya was there to support them. Bronya was there to make sure that they all stayed grounded. It was normal to feel a little bit…

_Red?!_

...grateful that she was there for all of them. And, of course, maybe a little bit…

_Jealous?!_

...wistful at the way that she and Lynera seemed to get along. That kind of thing she didn’t feel like she’d ever have with anyone. Because she felt so damaged now, after the raid on the Army depot and…

_And I’ll never be the same person again and that’s just how it is._

She took out her palmhusk and sent a message to the only other person she could think of.

vengefulSpirit began chatting with ferventnihilist at 1617 AST (0717 AUT)

Daraya

▲Hey, Tyz, it’s Daraya.▲

▼I know you probably won’t be able to respond to this but...▼   
▼I’m not doing great.▼   
▼▼Like, really not great.▼▼

▼▼▼Have you ever had to kill someone?▼▼▼   
▼▼▼I know I didn’t have a choice but… why can’t I get my brain to register that?!▼▼▼

▲I have so much support here… so many people that care about me.▲   
▼▼▼Why can’t I make myself understand it?!▼▼▼

She hung her head and as soon as her pacing took her back to the desk, she set the palmhusk down and sat in her chair, staring ahead at the wall. She wanted, more than anything, to be able to feel _normal_ again. Even if it was the stupid, boring kind of normal that Bronya had once imposed over them, then wouldn’t that be better than living every day with this fear?

Slowly, Daraya put her head down on the desk, letting the tears drip down without even bothering to wipe her eyes. “Stupid… I’m just a stupid wiggler.” No one had ever told her that freedom was going to feel like this — like she was just trapped in a different way.

From the door, there was a short, polite knock and Daraya sat up sharply, feeling her blood pusher jump a little.

“I’m coming,” she called out as she stood up and crossed the room to her door. She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before breathing out, wiping her eyes again, and trying to compose herself. She opened the door.

When she saw Bronya on the other side of the door, Daraya almost lost her composure again and for one brief moment the thought ran through her head — _she knows I was thinking about her!_ But that didn’t make any sense at all.

“Daraya. Can I come in, please?” Bronya looked _tired_ — like she’d never slept a day in her life.

Daraya’s mind kept running through everything she’d been thinking about. All the things she never bothered to _tell_ anyone. And suddenly she wished she’d asked for some relationship advice over the past half-sweep and… well, that felt more than a little silly to think, under the circumstances.

“Oh… sure,” she finally managed to stammer out. “What did you… uh… what did you need?”

Bronya sighed and walked into the room, letting the door close quietly behind her. She looked around curiously, and it occurred to Daraya that she’d never actually been in this room before. Lynera had, plenty of times… but never Bronya. Daraya felt the sudden need to justify her living situation — “I know it’s a little bit messy, but… sorry, I wasn’t expecting company right now.”

“No, it’s… uh… charming. Besides, Lynera seems perfectly happy to spend time here, so perhaps there’s a certain… quaint quality to it all.” She smiled.

“So, did you need something?” Daraya asked, hoping that the nervousness that was crawling all through her insides wasn’t audible. _Why is she here why is she here why is she in my room? Why did she come here?!_ “Anything I can help you with?” _No shut up don’t say it like that she’ll think you’re coming on to her. Why are you thinking about this right now anyway?_

“I just wanted to 1 — update you on how Chixie is doing and, 2 — see how you’re holding up.”

Daraya sighed. “I’m doing… fine. I’m fine. How’s Chixie?”

“She will be okay, thankfully. I was able to 1 — ensure there was no critical organ damage that will not heal, 2 — close everything up, and 3 — make sure she is treated with antibiotics against potential infection.” Bronya smiled and brushed at her skirt. “So she will have a scar, but otherwise she will be fine.”

_Physically fine, you mean._

“That’s good.” Daraya smiled. “That’s real good.”

“Yes.”

There was a long, awkward pause where nothing but silence came between the two of them. Daraya shifted and avoided looking at Bronya, and she could hear the soft _swish_ of the skirt as Bronya played with it. Daraya felt her cheeks flushing.

“Really, how are you doing?” Bronya asked. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive of your feelings.”

“What?” Daraya asked. “No, it’s fine. I’m doing… I’m fine, Bronya.” _I’m not fine. Nothing is fine. Why don’t you try telling her that nothing is fine._

Bronya smiled at her — a tired, worn smile — “Well, I am glad to hear that. I should go and—”

“Wait.” _Tell her what you really feel. Tell her tell her tell her._

Bronya stopped and turned, and Daraya would’ve sworn that she was blushing. It was probably just a trick of the light.

“I’m…” A thousand things ran through her mind. A thousand different thoughts and feelings and all the different possible ways she could start this conversation. “I’m not doing okay.” _Fucking NAILED IT, Dar!_

Bronya’s face fell — her ( _elegant_ ) eyebrows furrowed and her ( _pretty_ ) mouth turned down. “What do you mean?” There was genuine concern in her voice.

It might’ve been Daraya’s imagination, but it seemed that Bronya had moved closer to her.

“Ever since the raid on the Army depot I’ve been… I’ve been having trouble sleeping. And when I sleep, I’m in this blinding, burning city. And I can’t find my way out of it, no matter how hard I try.”

Bronya’s eyes grew wide, as if she were realizing something important, but Daraya didn’t stop talking.

“I don’t know what to do, because there’s all this shit I just… don’t know how to think about. I wasn’t ready for this. None of us were ready for it. I can’t be like Polypa and turn off whatever part of myself makes this all feel so _bad_ all the time.” Daraya turned to the side and laughed. “And I come back here and I shuffle around and I keep pretending. And I can’t even tell anyone how I feel about them. It took me a half a sweep to come around to the fact I was flushed for Lynera and we were kismeses for that whole fucking time!”

Daraya threw up her hands, having to pull back a little to avoid bumping into Bronya because she was definitely standing closer now. “I just don’t know what the hell to do!”

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” Bronya said in a quiet voice. “I think you punish yourself for things that aren’t your fault and see things as faults that are just normal.”

Daraya laughed again, feeling her whole face burning. “Easy to say, right? Easy to stand there and give me a pep talk when you’re the one with all your shit together and I’m standing her acting like a wiggler and I can’t even talk about the little red crush I have on y—” _Why the FUCK are you about to say that now?!_

One step between them, at most. Then none. Bronya leaned forward, put a hand on either side of Daraya’s face, and kissed her on the lips.

_This isn’t real._

Her brain was shorting out — obviously the result of the trauma and lack of proper sleep. Because it wasn’t possible that the former matriarch of the old caverns — the woman who she’d always seen as a kind of guardian despite the fact that she was only a sweep and a half older — was currently in the process of kissing her in the kind of hesitant-passionate way that you’d kiss your matesprit for the first time.

_You’re kissing her too, you fucking dumbass!_

Not _just_ kissing her. Her hands had already circled around Bronya’s back… grabbing. And Bronya reached back and grabbed her hands and... 

_Shit I went too far with this._

...pressed them to her body. She was breaking the kiss, but not the contact between them. Bronya’s lips were still _so_ close to hers, and she was panting softly. Her voice, when she spoke, was the faintest whisper.

“1 — I am tired.” She leaned forward slightly.

“2 — I am stressed.” Her lips brushed Daraya’s.

“3 — I don’t give a fuck anymore.” She kissed Daraya again — quick, and passionate, and a little bit rough. Daraya felt the movement of Bronya’s hands around her own, and the sliding rustle of cloth dropping away and her fingers were touching a layer of thin material that sharply divided to bare skin. _Sure… okay… what’s a little bit of red infidelity._

If she’d been paying even the slightest attention to something other than her own thoughts, Daraya probably would’ve noticed that the door hadn’t properly closed when Bronya walked into the room. She probably also would’ve noticed the hesitant knock and the slight creak it made when someone slipped into the room. She might’ve even noticed the sound of footsteps approaching, or the soft gasp that was uttered.

“What the fuck is going on?!” She definitely noticed Lynera’s voice, not three feet from the spot where she was currently in the process of groping her matesprit. “Is this something I can interrupt, or should I come back later?!” She sounded… hurt. _Of course she sounds fucking hurt what the hell are you even doing?!_

Bronya pushed back away from her, cheeks filled with green fire, and stammered. “Oh… oh… we were… I was… oh no…”

“No, I think it was pretty obvious what you were doing,” Lynera said, her voice tinged with that same pain.

“It’s not… it was just that we were talking and then…” Daraya didn’t want to meet Lynera’s eyes. “It was my fault.”

“Oh… okay… so…” Lynera took a step back, her face barely holding back tears. “Let me see if I can understand exactly what happened here.” She looked at Bronya. “You came to… talk to Daraya. Which is what you told me. And then you—” she turned to Daraya — “decided to kiss her. Or something. And now you look like you’re about to fuck, so maybe I should just go and we can talk about this later. Or, I guess, never talk about it ever because everyone is committed to making sure my life is miserable once more…”

She was crying in earnest now, her face lined with pain. She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “If this was the plan all along, then you didn’t have to spend so much… time on it. You didn’t have to put so much energy into making me think that you both cared about me. You could’ve just _said_ you didn’t love me. Or that you were using me for… whatever.” She smiled, full of pain.

“I wouldn’t have even _minded!_ You know that, right?! If you just wanted it to be some red-fling, physical thing I wouldn’t have minded at all. Bronya… I…” she turned her face to the ground. “I was always in love with you. If you’d said you just wanted to be together for fun, I would’ve taken that and I wouldn’t have ever complained.”

She looked up, and she was looking at Daraya. And, somehow, Daraya felt like this was going to be _worse._

“And you… I…” she swallowed hard, looking very much like she was trying to keep the tears back. “I don’t know why but this hurts even more. Because… because I wasn’t always in love with you. I saw how much better you could be and… and I believed in you. And…” She took a deep, shuddering, breath.

“And I _fell in love_ with you. And I… I thought you fell in love with me too. But I guess I was wrong about that.”

She sobbed. “I know what you’re thinking… that I’m a big fucking hypocrite because I’m matesprits with both of you—” Daraya didn’t think it would _hurt_ so much to hear Lynera call her “matesprit,” but there it was — “but I _never_ lied to either of you. I was scared to talk about my feelings for a long, long time but… when I did, I never misled you or told you different things. I love both of you, and I didn’t _want_ to change that.”

Daraya reached out a hand. “Lynera… wait…”

“I don’t want to talk to you. To either of you. Go on and have fun with this… I want both of you to be happy. I just wish you’d told me that you wanted to do this first, so I could decide if it was okay with me. I did that for you two…”

Daraya reached out to take Lynera’s arm, but she shrugged away from it. “I wanted to see how you were both doing, but you can come find me when you’re done with… whatever you want to do together.”

Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room. She didn’t _storm_ out of the room so much as she _faded_ from it. Daraya felt her face getting hot in a very different way than before.

“Oh fuck,” she said to Bronya. “We need to fix this… fuck fuck fuck.”


	23. Admissions

Bronya looked down at the skirt that was still pooled around her ankles and frowned. _You were really about to do that with Daraya, weren’t you?_ She could feel the hot blush of shame in her face. _You STILL want to do that with Daraya, don’t you?_ And why did everything have to be so complicated all the time?!

“Yes, we need to fix this.” She bent over and pulled her skirt up off the floor, fastening back around her waist and adjusting it carefully. Had she _really_ been about to do that? _Oh stop being so evasive. You were about to fuck her in the middle of the room and worry about feeling bad about it afterwards._

“What the hell got into us?” Daraya asked her. She was rubbing her hands together nervously. “I’m so, so sorry. This is… oh fuck I’m sorry.”

“No,” Bronya sighed. “Lynera was right about this… 1 — we should’ve been honest about it, 2 — we should’ve said something sooner, 3 — this wouldn’t be a problem if we’d all talked.”

For all of her commitment to organization and order, Bronya supposed that deep down in her soul she didn’t feel comfortable talking about her _feelings_ all that much. There was something so uncomfortably vague and squishy about them — the sense of vulnerability that made her want to crawl back up inside herself and never talk to anyone ever again.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care about anyone — or that she felt emotionless. It was that she knew that if she let herself start, she was going to be overwhelmed by it all. The same rush of emotion that had her ready to pail with Daraya with barely a conversation between them.

_You’re being unkind to yourself again._ Which was true… they’d all known each other for a long time. They’d shared so much hardship and joy. They’d confided in each other, and none of this was coming out of nowhere.

“Do you have any idea where she is?” Bronya asked. “I doubt she’ll be back in her chambers and… I don’t feel like airing this out for everyone just yet by searching all over for her. There’s too much else going on.” _And it’s embarrassing enough as it is._

Daraya sighed. “Yeah. She’s in the library. She goes there when she doesn’t want people to bother her. She thinks no one knows about it, but also Elwurd does the same thing. She _also_ thinks no one knows about it.” Daraya let out a humorless little laugh. “Look at me, being a kind and thoughtful matesprit.”

“We’re going to talk to her,” Bronya said resolutely. She drew herself up and nodded. “We’re going to go figure this out!”

“What if she doesn’t _want_ to figure this out? Have you considered that maybe this was just… something that hurt her too much?”

Bronya had, as a matter of fact, considered that very thing. She sighed. “I don’t want to let myself think about that just yet.” At least she was being honest with herself — Bronya figured that there’d been enough self-deception going around already without adding a little bit more to the pile.

“All right then,” Daraya said. “Let’s go talk to our matesprit.”

_Our matesprit… if we’d just talked this over, that’s probably how simple it would be._

* * *

The library was quiet and dim, lit by a series of small electric bulbs that ran around the walls and cast a dim, yellow glow into the room. It was the kind of light that created a lot of shadows, and somewhere in one of them, Lynera was hiding. Bronya walked in first, looking around nervously.

“Lynera? It’s Bronya… and… and Daraya. We really would like to talk to you. But of course if you don’t want to talk then we can go away and come back some other time. Or not come back at all, if you would rather.”

“You’re bad at this, sometimes,” Daraya whispered in her ear. Bronya scowled.

“Stop it! We’re here for Lynera!” she said it a bit louder than she meant to. Loud enough that Lynera must’ve heard, because in the shadows of the library she heard someone shift. A soft rustle of wool against wool.

“Lynera?” Bronya called out again. “We’re just here to talk. All three of us. We’re not going to try to blame you for what we did… or try to excuse it. We just want to… we just want to make this…” _Right? Okay? Better?_ She had no idea what to say next. “We just want to talk to you.”

From the shadows, a sigh… and then a quiet voice.

“Fine. But you come over here to the corner. I’m not getting up.” She sounded like she’d been crying. _Of course she’s been crying, you fucking idiot!_

Bronya walked to the back corner of the library and saw Lynera sitting there, her back up against a bookshelf. Even in the dim lighting, she could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes as she looked up at Bronya, then Daraya.

“You both came, huh?” she said quietly. “Are you here to tell me I was overreacting? That I’m just being stupid and I shouldn’t worry about it?”

Bronya started to speak, softly. “No, we’re not—” 

But Lynera cut her off — “Because I think that… maybe you might be right about that.”

Bronya looked over at Daraya, who shrugged and looked just as puzzled as she felt. “Lynera, you… you don’t need to say that. We were the ones who were…” She trailed off, not wanting to put too fine a point on the rest.

At first, Lynera didn’t say anything, and Bronya wondered if maybe she’d changed her mind about wanting to talk to them in the first place. But she sighed, and then spoke again in a soft voice.

“I didn’t tell you when Daraya and I flipped red. I didn’t tell you when were pitch.”

“I mean, it’s not the same quadr—”

“Stop.” Lynera’s voice took on a steely quality that Bronya wasn’t used to hearing from her. “Please don’t. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought over the last half-sweep. About what the quadrants mean to us… about how we see them.” She smiled, turning away from the two others and looking at the bookshelves lining the far wall. “And I wondered… what does it matter what you call it if your feelings are the same? If you love them and care about them… if you’re pailing together anyway… what does it matter what the fuck we call it at all?”

She leaned forward and picked at her skirt, bending over and smiling to herself. “So… I saw you two about to… about to do something together. And I was feeling hurt because… I guess because you didn’t tell me first. And I would’ve been fine with it. Because I love _both_ of you and I don’t see why I should have to pick one or the other. And I don’t have to… and you wouldn’t have to either, if you… got along with each other.”

Bronya glanced over at Daraya, who flushed deep jade and turned her head away.

“But it hurt that you didn’t talk to me first. And I wasn’t even mad… I was just _hurt_ so much. But then…” she picked at her skirt again. “Then I thought about how it must’ve felt for you to see Daraya and I together. Because we didn’t say anything to you, and I didn’t talk about things turning red. And what does that even _mean_ here?”

Bronya started to respond, but she felt the shame in her own face. It _had_ hurt a little bit. It _had_ felt like a little bit of a betrayal. And, like Lynera said, part of that was because it would’ve been _fine_ if they’d just talked about it.

“I’m not a wiggler — I’m not stupid,” Lynera said bluntly. “I know things haven’t been normal here for a long time. Things were _never_ normal, even before everything. Because the Empire expected us to just… not care about each other. We were all going to be split up and sent who-knows-where and then what would happen? We’d all just be… alone again.”

Bronya still wanted to say _something_ because it didn’t feel right to just stand here and listen to this. A part of her knew that she just needed to be there to hear Lynera out — that trying to help in some active way would only make things worse. As she was pondering this, Lynera stood up with a rustle, stepping forward out of the shadows. She looked somehow sad and happy at the same time — a smile on her face but her eyebrows quirked up in the middle.

She crossed the distance between them in two steps. And without warning, she hand Bronya’s chin held delicately between her thumb and first two fingers.

“I guess… the thing I kept coming back on is that I love you.” She kissed Bronya on the lips — a simple, gentle thing to do that ended in a heartbeat. Without saying another word, she turned and leaned over to Daraya and held her chin in the same delicate way with her hand.

“And I love you,” she said — and she kissed Daraya in exactly the same way. “And I guess you’re both… uh—” she blushed — “exploring your feelings for each other.”

_That’s one way to put it._

“So…” She looked at Bronya. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Daraya and I.”

“Yeah… I guess that was a little fucked up…” Daraya muttered from the side. “Sorry.”

Lynera smiled. “And… I think that if you and Daraya feel strongly about each other then this is… this is something we can work with.”

_Is she auspiticizing her own goddamn matesprits?! This is incredible!_ Bronya almost wanted to laugh, but her blood pusher was racing too fast for that.

“But!” Lynera interrupted her train of thoughts and her tone was serious. “There’s one thing you can’t do… that none of us can do if we want this to work.” She nodded at both Bronya and Daraya. “And that’s lie to each other, or keep things from each other. I’m not saying I’ve been the best at this…” she flushed deeply. “But we all need to trust each other if we want this to work. If we want it to work.”

Bronya looked at the face of Lynera — at the face of a woman she’d come to love deeply. She turned to face Bronya — a woman she respected and trusted and was, in fact, starting to fall in love with. She wasn’t immature enough to try to claim she felt exactly the same way about them, but she also wasn’t immature enough to deny how she’d felt in that moment when they were kissing. That moment of passion when she’d literally dropped her skirt at a moment’s notice. She blushed.

“Okay,” Daraya said without waiting. “Yeah… that’s all fair.” She looked over at Bronya and met her eyes… and there was no trace of judgment or blame there. “As long as you’re both okay with this. We can… uh… we can figure this out, right?”

_She’s not the same person she was back then. No wonder I feel this way about her now._

“Yes,” Bronya said quietly. “We can figure this out in a way that 1 — doesn’t hurt any of us, and 2 — makes us all feel good.”

Daraya and Lynera both looked at each other and… snorted with laughter.

“Yes… I’m sure it will feel good,” Lynera said, blushing. _Did she just make a joke?! Okay… maybe… maybe she’s changed too._

Lynera stepped forward and pulled the two of them closer. They were all pressed up against each other now. And, not for the first time that night, Bronya felt herself flushed and excited and unable to figure out exactly what she was supposed to do. But the edge of guilt that she’d felt before had vanished. She felt bad that she’d done such a bad job of communicating any of this, but… maybe everything had worked out all right in the end, even if the road there was a little bit bumpy.

Lynera leaned in and kissed her, and Bronya closed her eyes. The kiss felt… genuine — without any pretense or facade about it. Lynera drew back and turned her head to kiss Daraya’s neck, smiling.

Finally, a furiously blushing Daraya leaned in and kissed Bronya softly. It was more hesitant than before — more nervous. But still, there was a depth of feeling behind it that was impossible to ignore. Bronya closed her eyes and let herself simply _feel_ that.

She felt two sets of hands on her waist — two sets of hands that settled in and squeezed up against her. Two sets of hands that linked together and held each other, and held her.

There were other things they’d have to discuss — both banal and intimate — but for now, Bronya didn’t want to break the magic she found herself within. It was a spell of illusion — a moment that would inevitably break. But there was nothing saying that they couldn’t return to a similar moment as much as they wanted. An illusion they could share for a little while at a time, as often as they cared to.

And even if it was small, that felt like a victory to her.


	24. Cloaks and Daggers Therein

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1301 local time (0401 AUT)

Stelsa had sent the message exactly as prescribed by their contact, and then she’d waited. Waited past the sudden roar of a high-powered rifle from somewhere toward the city center. Waited past the explosion and the long silence that followed. As much as Stelsa didn’t want to simply sit on her hands and wait, she had no choice at all. So she waited. Bored, and anxious, she sat on the longueplank in their makeshift safehouse and drummed her hands on her thighs. The air was hot, dry, and stagnant… and Stelsa hated every minute that she had to sit here rather than being able to be out and in motion.

Even if what she was moving toward wasn’t ideal, it was better to be acting rather than sitting back and waiting to react. She groaned and closed her eyes, pressing the heels of her palms up against her face.

“You’re bored,” Tyzias said, her voice suddenly in front of Stelsa.

Without even opening her eyes, Stelsa replied. “Of course I’m bored! Zizi, this is maddening! We’re supposed to be… we’ve got so much to do! So much we don’t know!”

“And we can’t do anything until the contact gets back to us. Literally nothing, Stels!” Tyzias said it in the matter-of-fact way that she always did — the way that made it clear that this wasn’t something that could be argued against. “So you might as well make the most of it, right?”

Stelsa pushed the heels of her palms up against her eyes, trying to stave off the stress headache that was starting to build up. “And how do we do that, Zizi? What can we do? We can’t call out of the city because of the jamming — we haven’t heard back from our contact… and we’re not exactly an army here, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Well, you can start by opening your eyes.” Tyzias’ voice had a playful undertone to it.

“Zizi, please, I am getting _such_ a headache from the worry… if I open my eyes it’ll be even worse…”

“Trust me.” That same playful tone. Stelsa finally decided it was worth the risk just to see what the hell her matesprit was talking about and—

Tyzias was standing in front of her wearing _remarkably_ little clothing. She had that same button-down shirt on that she always did… the one she apparently owned thirty of… but it was unbuttoned and draped open to reveal a clear line of bare skin straight down her chest. She didn’t appear to be wearing pants… or, Stelsa noticed with a flush of embarrassment, underwear.

“Zizi!” She clapped both hands to her mouth and the flush of embarrassment only got worse. “Why are you like this?!”

“Seriously?” Tyzias asked, her face absolutely deadpan. “You were the one — not even two cycles ago and in this very room, I might add — who suggested that I’d be less antsy waiting if we pailed.”

“Oh, but you make it sound so _vulgar_ when you put it like that!” She was desperately trying to hide the fact that she was grinning ear-to-ear around her hands. Slowly, she reached out toward Tyzias and her matesprit took her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing the back of the knuckles softly. “Well… okay… maybe you have a point. _Maybe._ ”

“Mmmhmm…” Tyzias took a step forward and carefully perched herself over Stelsa’s lap, knees to either side of her legs. She bent forward and kissed her on the lips and Stelsa closed her eyes. She desperately tried to downplay the small whimper that came out as they kissed, but she could tell Tyzias noticed… mostly because wrapped her arms around Stelsa’s shoulders and pressed herself in closer.

Her hands went under the open shirt, onto Tyzias’ stomach, then up along her grub scars. Tyzias didn’t break the kiss, but she _did_ falter at least once, taking in a sharp breath without moving her lips away. Stelsa was proud of that — they’d been together for a long time, and it had given her a very good idea of all the places that Tyzias actually _liked_ being touched. And where to avoid — how to not run her hands along a certain point by her hips because it was ticklish, but how she liked the feeling of hands on her torso basically everywhere else.

Stelsa ran her fingers up the side, cupped her matesprit’s breasts, and squeezed… and that got a moan out of her that _did_ break the kiss.

“You’re insufferable…” Tyzias muttered, and Stelsa smiled.

“Why?”

“Because you know exactly what you’re doing. Probing my weaknesses.”

Stelsa grinned and leaned in to kiss Tyzias along the side of the neck. “But you were the one who climbed onto my lap, if I recall correctly.”

Tyzias murmured something halfway between a moan and a purr. “We’re not in the Legiscorpus anymore… no need to resort to technicalities…”

Another kiss on the neck… and another… a small nip of the teeth. Tyzias moaned again, louder this time.

“Oh please, Zizi… you’ve always liked a good technicality.” Another short bite, then a longer kiss. Tyzias squirmed in her lap. “For example… you _technically_ climbed into my lap and you are _technically_ the one who initiated this exchange… but…”

She craned her neck and put Tyzias’ earlobe in her mouth and bit down softly — just hard enough to be felt, but not enough to hurt. She never wanted to hurt this woman — never.

“I think I’m the one who’s in control here.” Stelsa wrapped her arms up around Tyzias’ back and pulled her in close, feeling the heat of their bodies together. “Technically speaking.”

“Uh…” Tyzias was rapidly moving past the point of actual words. Stelsa had been with her long enough to recognize this as well. A gentle push and she’d be over the edge.

_Technically speaking._

* * *

To describe the timing of the palmhusk alert going off as “bad timing” would have been the absolute _peak_ of understatement. It had, in fact, gone off in a particularly heated moment, with Tyzias still planted firmly over her hips and her back flat on the longueplank now… her eyes half-closed, seeing the figure of her matesprit through the haze of her own eyelashes and the euphoria that came along with…

_Why won’t that stupid fucking thing stop?!_

She felt Tyzias shift, lean forward, and mutter. “Just ignore it.” She pressed her hips down firmly. “Just… ignore it…” And Stelsa had to admit that it was getting a lot easier to ignore the bleating of the damn palmhusk’s alert like this. She reached out and grabbed Tyzias’ hips.

The emergency alert sounded again. _Why the fuck didn’t I just shut it off for a few minutes?!_ This time, Tyzias groaned.

“You gotta… be…” She bit her lip and settled down, apparently finding it possible to ignore the alert again. She leaned forward over Stelsa, their faces mere inches apart. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Stelsa met her gaze and smiled. “Of course, Zizi. I love you— _oh!_ ” She was staring at her matesprit’s shit-eating grin as she did _something_ with her hips. “Oh that’s _not fair!_ ” She closed her eyes and let herself fall into that feeling and…

...the alert went off once again.

“What the hell?!” Stelsa snapped, opening her eyes again and looking at Tyzias’ smile. “I… I guess we need to get that, don’t we?” She was trying very hard to hide the disappointment in her voice.

Tyzias nodded and gingerly dismounted, rolling over to her side on the longueplank next to Stelsa. “Sorry, Stels.”

“It’s not _your_ fault! The damn alert system… it overrides the volume settings on that stupid palmhusk!” She crossed her arms over her chest and suddenly found herself wishing that she could roll back time just a few minutes — to just live in that one, beautiful moment together. No chance of it though — the hand only moved in one direction on this clock.

“Still, you seemed like you were enjoying yourself.” She gave Stelsa a peck on the lips and smiled.

“Of course I was enjoying myself!” She made a _hmph_ noise. “And it seemed like you were too.”

“Maybe a little.” The same smile as before. Stelsa reached out and shoved her playfully.

_Time to see what those alerts are about._ She swung her legs out over the edge of the bed and felt the sensation of her bare feet against the wooden floor. She crossed the room and picked up the burner palmhusk that their contact had provided them with.

??? opened a SECURE_COM with s_sezyat at 1316 AST (0416 AUT)

???

(you requested a meeting.)

(this can be arranged.)

(fourth meeting point. one hour.)

“The contact?” Tyzias said from her spot on the loungeplank. Stelsa got a brief stab of longing — the desire to do literally anything other than try to chase down leads in an Army-occupied city. The desire to finish doing one thing in particular. Tyzias quirked an eyebrow and propped herself up. “What? What is it?”

Stelsa sighed. “The contact wants to meet at the fourth spot in an hour.”

It took a second for Tyzias to process the information. “The private garden? That’s a ways from here — we need to get going right away.”

Stelsa nodded and frowned. “I know, Zizi. I… we can finish this later, right?”

Tyzias laughed and smiled as she stood up. “Of course. Any time you want.”

* * *

They reached the gate to the garden almost exactly an hour later — it wouldn’t have taken so long under normal circumstances, but they had to carefully navigate to avoid the scattered Army forces who hadn’t already been redirected to the center of the city in the wake of the explosion from earlier. Fortunately, they weren’t late — Stelsa didn’t think that their contact was going to just hang around for long.

Stelsa pushed open the door to the garden — it was some walled-off thing that had been built in the lowblood district and then eventually abandoned. Most likely it belonged to someone who’d been recruited… or culled. Now it was a mostly-overgrown thicket of weeds with a roughly cleared path through it. Stelsa stepped inside, letting Tyzias through after her and closing the door tightly behind them.

“This had better not be more bullshit,” Tyzias muttered from in front of her.

Stelsa shook her head. “I don’t think the contact is lying to use, Zizi… although I do suspect she doesn’t know much about what she’s providing us with information on.” She said it as calmly as she could, but inside she was simmering with anger at this. It felt like a bunch of childish games and they didn’t have time for it.

From the bushes, a soft voice called out. “You’re there — were you followed?”

All of a sudden, the anger boiled over. All of the frustration and pain from the last few cycles. Stelsa walked forward, pushing around Tyzias, and walked up to their contact. Without even breaking stride, Stelsa grabbed the contact by the collar of their coat with her left hand and shifted her weight, knocking them onto the ground face-first. She was on top of them in an instant, and with her right hand she pulled the Fleet service pistol out and pressed the barrel into the back of their contact’s head.

“What the fuck are you doing, Stels?!” Tyzias sounded panicked, but Stelsa ignored her. She thumbed back the hammer of the pistol — a single hair’s worth of pressure separated the head of their contact from the end of a bullet.

She was done with all of it — done playing along with these wiggler games. Done pretending that it was all nonsense that didn’t matter. Done putting her friends at risk because someone didn’t want to tell them information they desperately needed to know.

“Whoever you are… I’m done with this. Our friend was shot tonight. Our other friends are in constant danger. A bomb just went off in this city and we were blamed for it even though we have no idea what’s even going on.” She took a deep breath and pressed the barrel of the gun down further. “I don’t know how much you actually know, but I don’t think it’s very much. So I’m gonna give you a choice… either you tell us who the fuck you are, how you found this information, and whatever else you fucking know…” She shoved the gun down even further. “Or I’m gonna pull this trigger and then we’ll figure things out on our own.”

“Stels, this is crazy!” Tyzias wasn’t moving, but she sounded terrified. “You can’t just fucking _kill her!_ ”

“Why not?!” Stelsa said quickly. “Why the fuck not? How many people that we knew have already died?! How many more are going to die? What about all those people in Everdim?! What if all that happens again?!”

Their contact squeaked out a barely-audible word — “Wait!”

Stelsa pulled back the barrel of the pistol and de-cocked the hammer. “What did you say?!”

“I said… wait…” she said quickly — the terror was apparent in her voice. “Did you say Everdim? You were… you were there?”

“Yes.” Tyzias responded this time, her voice flat. “We were… we escaped right before the bombing started.”

Stelsa could still remember the feeling of the over-pressure waves as they buffeted them out on the plains. The knowledge that every blast meant the end of countless lives.

“We were there. And we were there to see the monster that ordered the attacks burn.” Stelsa was surprised at the ferocity in her own voice She didn’t _think_ she was willing to actually kill their contact at first but… she wasn’t entirely sure. “You get to play around with these wiggler games but you have no idea what we’ve seen.”

She expected that the contact would start crying any minute — that she would break down and either give her what she asked for or refuse and beg for her life. But she wasn’t prepared for what actually happened—

The contact sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

“I was on board the Iustitia when they bombed the city. And during the trial. I was on board… and I just… didn’t do anything. Because I was a coward and because I was afraid.” She sniffled, but she still wasn’t crying. “I worked in the records department…”

“Wait… you… you know who we are, don’t you?” Stelsa asked quietly. Slowly, she holstered her pistol and stood up, taking her knee off of the contact’s back. The contact rolled over and sat on the ground, holding her knees up to her chest and frowning.

“Yes. I know who both of you are. I was watching the trial. I mean… on the feed, of course. I was in the records department, like I said.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing you in records,” Tyzias said… and then, as if on cue, her face changed. “Oh shit! You were one of the Librarians, weren’t you? The ones that never get to leave their designated part of the ship?”

The contact nodded. “Yes. Like jade bloods, but…” She smiled nervously. “Wrong shade of green, I guess?” She tried to smile, but it died on her lips.

“We’re basically just… just slaves! We never get let out, we have our own facilities… we’re entrusted with the most secret documents Alternia has and in exchange… we never get to leave.” Now she was starting to cry. And then she managed the smile she’d been trying before. “But I got out! I took a bunch of documents — everything that looked important — and I stuffed them all into a big bag and I took them to the escape pod! Everyone was so freaked out by the explosions that no one even stopped me.”

She looked over at Stelsa and smiled again. Stelsa felt shame in her guts like she’d never felt before.

“I wasn’t…” Stelsa looked away. “I wasn’t going to kill you. I’m so sorry… I just… I don’t know what else to do. There’s so few of us and there’s so much we don’t know. It must’ve been like that for you too. I’m sorry.” She reached out to pat the contact on the shoulder, but then thought better of it.

The contact shrugged. “It’s fine. Every day I think that it’ll be the last day. They would never let a Librarian out alive, so I’m basically kill-on-sight if they find out who I am.”

“And who are you?” Tyzias asked gently. “What’s your name?”

“I…” She shrugged again. “What does it matter? Not like you two are any less wanted than me. My name is Boldir… Boldir Lamati.”

“Well, it’s nice to actually know you, Boldir,” Tyzias said. _She’s doing a much better job of handling this than I was._ “We still had some things we thought you could help us with.”

“Like what?” Boldir asked, looking back and forth between Stelsa and Tyzias. Stelsa finally cleared her throat.

“We need as much information on what the Empire’s up to as possible. We can’t decipher the code on that document you gave, but we think it’s important. Basically, anything you could give us would be a huge help!”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?! I have a ton of information to break those cyphers! They’re always super outdated!”

Stelsa and Tyzias stared at each other, disbelieving.

“Yeah!” Boldir said cheerfully, all traces of her previous distrust vanishing away. “I can take you to my hideout and show you! I’ll bet I’ve got what you need to figure it out no problem!” She smiled and nodded her head.

Stelsa and Tyzias looked at each other again.

“Okay… is it too late to change my mind on using the pistol to threaten her?” Tyzias said, her voice absolutely deadpan.


	25. Higher Forms of Treason

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 0825 AUT

Without day cycles on the ship, the Iustitia was basically always humming with activity. That made it hard for Ardata to get to Tagora’s quarters without being noticed by too many people, but with a few creative re-assignments and bullshit tasks doled out to various inferiors, she was able to manage it. She didn’t waste time considering what she was doing, simply choosing to walk directly there and start pounding on his door. It was the middle of his assigned off-duty cycle — he’d be there.

After a minute of banging on the door, it finally opened to reveal an tired-looking Tagora. His face changed from irritated to terrified the instant he saw Ardata standing in the doorway.

“Fleet Commander! To what do I owe the great honor of a personal visit at this hour?”

“I don’t sleep, Gorjek,” Ardata sighed. “Not really. Now let me the fuck in, we have to talk.”

Tagora immediately stepped back to open the door, letting Ardata walk inside without a moment of hesitation. Tagora’s quarters were more than a little bit of a mess — it would never have passed inspection by even a newly-minted Sergeant. The disposable trays that the mess hall used were scattered all over, and trash and dirty uniforms littered the floor. _He doesn’t leave this room unless he has to._

“My apologies for the sight of this place, Fleet Commander… I was simply… in the middle of re-organizing things. For better… efficiency.”

“I thought I told you not to try to lie to me.” Ardata’s voice was dangerous. “You want me to tell you something, Gorjek?”

He swallowed heavily, but didn’t respond.

“The only reason you’re not a fucking _Librarian_ right now… and I mean the _only_ reason… it isn’t your blood color or whatever bullshit you did for the Empire before. The only reason is I want to have something to hold over you before I get to straight-up killing you.”

She stared directly at him with all three eyes. “So we’re going to go to the hall of records and I’m going to ask you a few things and you’re going to answer. You’re going to answer honestly and if I think you’re lying to me… well, you won’t have to worry about leaving the hall of records for anything ever again.” She smiled. “But hey… our only other Librarian went missing during the chaos a half sweep ago, so you’ll have the whole place to yourself.”

* * *

Security was posted outside the hall of records, but a quick “the Initiate and I have business — we were never here” was enough to convince the guard to take his meal break a little bit early. Ardata motioned to Tagora.

“Use your ID to open the door.” She didn’t want her access to the records potentially being recorded somewhere, and Tagora was smart enough not to ask her what her motivation was. He quickly swiped his card and the seal to the hall of records hissed softly as the door opened. The room was kept at slightly higher pressure than the rest of the ship so that it would be harder for a fire to spread to it in the event of a shipwide disaster.

“What did you need from me, Commander?” Tagora finally asked as they stepped through the door and heard another hiss as it closed behind thm. “I am nothing if not a Loyal Servant of the—”

“Shut up. I know that’s not true. You’re an opportunistic bastard… maybe erring a bit on the side of wanting this Empire gone. Fine. I don’t fucking _care_ right now.” Ardata wasn’t sure why she was even saying this to him — or why she was even thinking it in the first place. Hadn’t the Empire been good to her? Hadn’t it always served to benefit her and advance her station in life? She had wealth, status, and power. She had a freedom that so many lacked…

_All it took was to give the okay to slaughter almost a million people._

“Okay,” Tagora said slowly. “So… what do you need, Fleet Commander?”

She glared at him. “I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer them honestly. If you do that, I can promise you nothing will happen. If not…” She gestured around the hall of records and Tagora swallowed heavily.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “What do you want to know?”

“Does _the Homeworld Initiative_ ring any bells to you?” She studied Tagora’s face carefully as he started to answer. “Before you answer… remember my promise to you?”

He smiled nervously and took a lot longer to answer, seeming to actually give the matter consideration. _At least he knows I’m not joking about having him permanently assigned here._

“It… does not. I’m sorry, Fleet Commander, but I’ve never seen that name come across the records.”

_Because she wrote it herself, obviously. What the fuck?_

Ardata glared and leaned closer. “Okay, Gorjek… then let me ask you some more specific questions. Do you know anything about a drone improvement project? Automation of combat roles? Anything like that.” Tagora screwed up his face and nodded slowly.

“There… there was something, actually.” He looked around, as if someone was going to jump out and grab him. “A coded Alternian Intelligence file, actually. But I do happen to know some of their standard document cypher.” He sounded more full of himself at that one — proud of his accomplishment. Aradata didn’t care.

“Were you planning to _tell_ me about it, or have you gotten comfortable in here and wanted to check out the dedicated Librarians’ quarters… I hear they’re quite sparse.”

He waved his hand quickly and shook his head. “No, Fleet Commander, I was just getting to that. You see, about a perigee ago there was a document update request on a document that doesn’t actually appear in the files. Something called _Project Watchword_ and they wanted to amend a couple parts of it. So I never saw the whole file, but it was definitely about making the drones more self-capable. Specifically, there was something in there about no longer requiring actual drone operators although… I don’t know what they were planning to replace them with.”

That _was_ an interesting piece of information. So the Empress’ plan had something to do with autonomous drones, at least in part. That didn’t explain the rest of it though, and Aradata had some more questions to—

Before she could even finish her thoughts, the lights went out. She heard Tagora scream next to her, but she simply crouched down and waited. Sure enough, the emergency lighting came on almost immediately. Ardata grabbed her palmhusk and brought up the internal communications channel for the bridge.

“This is Fleet Commander Carmia — what the fuck just happened?!”

A long pause. A pause that spoke volumes. Finally, a voice on the other end.

“Fleet Commander — we’ve lost the helmsman!”

Aradata swore under her breath and yelled into the palmhusk, “I’ll be there in five minutes!” She turned to Tagora. “We’re not done with this conversation! You stay here until I come back.”

* * *

It wasn’t just the hall of records — power had been reduced to the emergency supply throughout the ship. Every corridor that Ardata ran through was lit with the dim half-light of the backup light strips, and most of the non-essential readouts and screens were shut down. She took the shortest route to the bridge, quickly running past the pair of olive bloods assigned to security detail and opening the manual release on the door.

As soon as she slid the door open, the smell hit her… a burned meat smell mixed with the odor of ozone from fried electrical writing.She wrinkled her nose and turned to the teal blood who was assigned to the bridge in her absence — she didn’t know the woman’s name, but a rank would be sufficient.

“Sub-Commander, what the fuck is going on here?!”

The teal looked around quickly — she was visibly shaking. “We lost the helmsman!” It was clear from the smell what she meant.

“How?! What happened?!”

“Some kind of power surge through the ship — we just lost all of the primary systems all at once. It was feeding back directly into the helmsman interface too! We’re not sure how that’s even possible… it’s supposed to be on a completely closed-off system except for essential handshake comms!”

Something from the other day tripped in Ardata’s memory. _The helmsman interface._

She drew her service pistol and looked around the bridge — only the teal was on duty. It looked like she’d ordered a skeleton bridge crew… not unheard of, but unusual.

“Ma’am, what are you doing?” the teal asked quickly.

“Shut the fuck up and draw your weapon.” Without asking again, the Sub-Commander did as she was told.

From somewhere deeper in the ship, there was the sound of an explosion.

And then another.

In another part of the ship, gunfire.

_You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!_

“Do we still have internal comms?” Ardata asked — the Sub-Commander nodded. “Good.”

She pulled out her palmhusk with her free hand and brought up Azdaja’s personal channel. “Sergeant, it’s time to earn your fucking paycheck. When you get this, find out what the fuck is going on and get back to me.”

Putting the palmhusk away, Ardata ran to the bridge door and quickly entered a code into the panel next to it. A heavy, metal set of blast doors dropped from the ceiling and slammed into place, locking firmly into couplings on the bottom.

The teal’s voice was full of panic now. “Ma’am?! What are you doing?!”

“I’m sealing us the fuck off. Anything that can punch through that door will blow the ship wide open, so we’re safe in here.” From the other side of the door, the faint booming sound of another explosion reverberated through the ship. “And we’re staying in here until I know it’s safe to come out.”

“Ma’am…” Her voice sounded different… and all of a sudden, Ardata realized she’d misread her. She _was_ shaking and it _was_ from nerves, but…

“You fucking traitor…” Ardata turned to see the teal holding the service pistol at eye-level.

“Ma’am, you’re going to stand down and release the lock on that door. If you let us take the ship, we promise we’ll spare the crew. We’re not like the emp—”

Ardata didn’t give her a chance to finish — she quickly raised her own service pistol and fired two shots. She might never have been in the infantry, but Ardata had placed first in the Fleet pistol competition every single time she’d entered. The frangible round hit the teal in the middle of the face and quickly expanded, blowing the back of her head out and sending her down in a tumble. Her pistol clattered to the ground.

“Fuck!” Ardata yelled to no one. On the far side of the sealed blast doors, she could hear the sound of gunfire moving closer. If it was audible through all that, then it must be in the corridor. She ran to the panel by the door and hit the button for the intercom system.

“Guards! What the fuck is going on out there?!”

There wasn’t a response from the other side. More gunfire sounded down the corridor, and the sound of something pinging off the metal of the blast door. _Bullets._

She didn’t think the guards were alive anymore.

“FUCK!” She holstered her pistol — there wasn’t any need for it anymore. What good would it possibly do against whatever the hell was going on out there.

The intercom on the panel crackled to life.

“Fleet Commander Carmia? My name is Commander Amisia Erdehn of the Alternian Revolutionary Movement — we’ve commandeered the Iustitia and are in the process of securing the ship. You can either surrender peacefully and let us take control of the ship.” There was a pause — a moment where Ardata could almost hear this person thinking. “Or… you can not.”

Ardata ignored her and walked to the console in the center of the bridge. But, unsurprisingly, everything was locked out. At the head of the bridge, the helmsman’s chamber was smoking slightly, the horrid meat-ozone smell only getting stronger. Ardata yelled to no one and slammed a fist into the side of the console.

She stood in the center of the bridge and looked at the blank viewscreens and dead consoles. At the ruins of the world she’d been so certain had been hers to control.

And the lights went out again.

When they came back on, the lights blared to their full strength and the ship hummed to life again. Ardata glanced with a rising sense of panic at the viewscreens — they were displaying text again, but everything was locked out. The console next to her was still dead.

_Who the fuck is in control of the ship?!_

But she already knew the answer to that question.


	26. Ride-Along

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Alternian orbit - 0835 AUT

Mallek sat back against the jumpseat of the assault ship and gripped the side of the seat with knuckles that were rapidly moving from light gray to white with the force of his grip. Next to him — across from him — on every side were lowbloods wearing heavy assault suits and carrying specialized boarding carbines. He wasn’t wearing any of that — just a simple pressure suit — and he’d never felt more naked.

Directly across from him, Amisia sat in a pressure suit as well, gripping a Fleet officer’s pistol and grinning. “Don’t be nervous — everyone here’s ready for this. We’ve got people on board already — they’ve been working to help set this up.

When Amisia had explained it, it had all made sense. Even if Mallek didn’t work with Fleet tech, he knew enough about to know exactly how it would work. It was, in fact, a plan that was somehow both incredibly complex and surprisingly simple.

* * *

“A couple little pieces like… _what?_ ” Mallek stared at Amisia, still processing what she was saying. “If I’m getting this right, you’re saying you’re going to, what, steal a fucking flagship ship? You know they turned it into a fucking assault carrier, right?”

She smiled at him. “Yes, that’s correct. We’ve been getting everything together, and now we’re just putting the last piece into place.”

“That’s… ominous…” Mallek studied her face, looking closely to see if she was going to tell him something without actually saying it. “You want to tell me more?”

To his surprise, Amisia shrugged and nodded. “Of course! The plan is well underway — you know what, I’m being silly.” She laughed, clapping a hand to her mouth. “I’ll explain it as best I can.”

She leaned in. “You know how the flagships fly, right? How’re they’re controlled?”

“I mean, yeah… the helmsmen. Everyone knows that.”

She smiled and clapped her hands together, as if he was a wiggler who’d just done some kind of amusing trick for her. “Of course! And you’re familiar with the helmsman interface, of course?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Again… everyone knows about that. Plug the helmsman in and they’re basically one and the same with the ship, at least as far as navigation and stuff goes.”

“Yes!” Once again, she clapped. “What better way to fight than to have something like a living weapon, right? But—” she paused and wagged a finger — “there’s a very specific weakness that it brings into play. That is… the helmsman interface has a unique ability to communicate between certain systems. The ships… the drones… everything is at least a little bit connected.”

It was quickly starting to make sense — maybe not all of it, but enough. “You have a helmsman interface, don’t you?”

Amisia was grinning from ear to ear. “Yes! You’re so smart! I knew it was a good idea to bring you on board!”

Mallek shifted and looked away. _I’m not… I don’t think I should be here, actually._ “So how’re you planning to use the interface to take over a whole ship? They must have security in place — it’s a fucking assault carrier!”

Amisia smiled, and the smile was turning dangerou. It was something that Mallek didn’t think he’d seen from her before, and it terrified him. _She’s a highblood through and through, isn’t she?_

* * *

“Five minutes out, ma’am,” the tall olive-blood sitting next to Amisia said. The olive blood checked her boarding carbine, followed closely by the rest of the soldiers around him. Mallek was made immediately pointedly aware of the fact that he was unarmed and basically unprotected.

“Isn’t this exciting?!” Amisia was quickly bouncing her leg up and down. She slipped the pressure helmet on, the seals closing around her horns. All of the soldiers around did the same, and Mallek struggled to put on his own helmet. It closed in around him, the feeling of the pressure equalization making his ears stop up.

“I’ve never been in a pressure suit before…” He closed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks, trying to get his ears to pop. “This is…” _I’m fucking terrified. I can’t fucking do this. Why am I even here?!_

“Don’t worry about it,” Amisia said cheerfully, her voice filtered through the com on her helmet. “You’ll get used to it soon enough.” She checked her pistol. “Just stay behind these folks and you’ll be just fine.”

_I’m gonna be fucking sick…_

The sensation of acceleration changed as the assault ship started its hard braking burn. He suddenly wondered whether or not the Iustitia had a lock on them — whether he’d be blasted out into the hard vacuum and lost forever. He could see it in the moment — the side of the hull blasted open and him peeled from the jumpseat and thrown out into the void. Mallek shivered. Amisia laughed.

* * *

“It’s really quite simple,” Amisia said lightly — as if she was just talking about what she’d had for lunch that night. “We’ve got people on the inside — people who can help take down the Iustitia, but we needed a way through the defenses.”

Mallek felt his gut clench up — the automated defenses on the ship. The fucking _assault carrier_ that had been refitted specifically to defend against attacks just like this one. To be able to forge out into deep space where raiders and pirates flew their flags.

“Don’t worry though.” She tapped the side of her nose knowingly. “We’ve got a plan. You’ll just have to come along and see.”

“Excuse me?” Mallek’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head. “Come along?”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m going to just let you stay behind. Even with a vague idea of what we’re doing… and I’d be a fool to just _trust_ you like that. You know that, right?” She laughed, and then her voice turned cold. “Come with me. We’re leaving soon.”

* * *

The assault ship stopped with a metallic thud that reverberated through the hull — and he was still alive. The lowbloods undid their jumpseat restraints and stood, their mag-boots clamping firmly to the deck. Mallek stood, unsteady and not used to the feel of the low gravity — Amisia’s ship had had a grav generator at least. Stumbling behind the soldiers, Mallek reached out for support — Amisia took his hand.

“We’ll be right behind them. Don’t worry — we’ll be inside the grav field in a second.” She grabbed his arm and helped him stumble forward. The feeling in his head was getting worse — the sense of a pressure differential that he just couldn’t equalize.

“Gonna be sick…” he mumbled.

Amisia shook her head and dragged him forward. “No, you’re not! Hurry up and we’ll be in standard gravity.”

Ahead of them, the soldiers had reached the end of the boarding ramp. There was a hiss and the smell of ozone — a blinding flash of light that moved in a quick circle around and around and then stopped. A hiss… a click… and the door opened to reveal the other side of the boarding ramp and the corridor of the Iustitita.

The lights were dim — the emergency lighting was on. _They did something to the power. They were ready for this._ It wasn’t an accident that they hadn’t been fired on by the ship’s defenses. The defense weren’t working. Nothing was working.

“Go!” the head of the soldier shouted, and they ran down into the corridor, fanning out on either side and raising their carbines. Amisia followed behind, pulling Mallek along. As they crossed the boarding ramp and into the Iustitia, the pull of the gravity field weighed down and the mag-boots automatically cut off once they were under gravity.

Mallek went to pull his helmet, but Amisia stopped him. “No. Keep that on… we might end up in vacuum before this is over.”

She couldn’t be experienced at this — couldn’t be more than nine sweeps — but she was talking like she’d prepared for it. His blood-pusher was hammering in his chest as he watched the soldiers preparing at each corridor, checking the corners and staring down their carbines.

_What’s happening?! What the fuck am I doing?!_ The soldiers moved so quickly… so much faster than Mallek was prepared for — they’d done this before and they were prepared to do it again… and again. As much as was needed.

Mallek was so anxious — so worried about what might happen next — that he almost didn’t notice the first gunshots. The carbines barked down a long corridor, chattering in sequence as they spat death down at some unknown security… or hapless bystanders. Mallek had no idea, and it didn’t matter. The soldiers spread out and ran down the corridor, moving down the middle of the lane with Amisia and Mallek trailing behind.

It was then that Mallek noticed that Amisia was holding a small tactical computer, checking it frequently. He could see, even visible through the haze of adrenaline and faceplate of the helmet, that there was a map of the Iustitia pulled up.

_They were ready for all of this._

“We’re linking up with the next group two junctions down,” Amisia said. _How many boarding parties did they have?!_ She ducked behind a corner and pulled Mallek over. “Watch yourself.”

The soldiers formed a pair of staggered lines on either side of the next corridor and stood there, waiting. It was quiet… still… and Mallek could hear his own breathing heavy in his ears. He struggled to keep his pusher under control. _Hold it together… keep it together… you can do this… please don’t throw up…_

The sound of the carbines firing in unison was deafening, even with the helmet on. Mallek ducked down and winced, waiting for the hell to finally stop.

And after a while, everything was quiet.

“Get up,” Amisia said. “We’ve got things to do.”

* * *

They walked down the corridors, and everywhere they went, Mallek could see how things had gone. Soldiers guarded the intersections and corridors… and bodies littered the floors. Mallek looked away quickly, not wanting to see it — not wanting to acknowledge what had happened.

_This was a slaughter… a massacre… how did they do this?_

Amisia nodded. “I think you can take the helmet off if you want.” She reached up and broke the seal on her own helmet, pulling it up over her horns and tucking it down under her arm. “It’s fine, really. Everyone that’s left is working for us or… well… you know.” She gestured to a side corridor where two soldiers were stacking bodies.

Mallek didn’t _want_ to remove his helmet… because he didn’t want to smell the rust-red smell of the bodies that were stacked everywhere. The stains that were scattered everywhere — gold, olive, bronze… and so, so much rust. The same people that were always thrown in the grinder when the time came for it.

But he couldn’t keep this up — couldn’t keep hyperventilating in the closed confines of the helmet. Reaching up in a panic, Mallek struggled with the latch and finally felt the seal release — even the recycled air of the Iustitia was fresh compared to the short-cycle re-circulated oxygen from the suit.

He gasped and let the helmet clatter to the ground. Amisia looked over at it… but then she shrugged. It didn’t matter to her. It didn’t matter… because this was her ship now.

He had no idea where they were going, so he rushed to keep up. There were so many bodies. So many soldiers. Mallek could feel his pusher jumping up again, starting to race… aching.

“What’s… what’s happening here?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Amisia smiled at him, turning and positively _beaming._ “I told you before… we’re securing my new flagship.”

Up ahead, a soldier stood there in the middle of the corridor, wearing the armor of an Alternian Fleet cerulean commando. Mallek had heard about them — seen them used in propaganda, even. But he’d never actually _seen_ one in person. They weren’t deployed to the planet… were reserved for the most arduous combat in the Frontier.

She was terrifying — one horn hooked into a massive barb and her left eye dotted with five pupils. She was holding one of the boarding carbines and smiling… a smile that Mallek didn’t want to look at, all teeth and malice.

“Commander,” she said sharply. “We are secured up to the final corridor and the door has been sealed. With your leave, we will approach.”

Amisia nodded to the cerulean. “Of course, Command Sergeant Namaaq. You have operational command.”

_She’s playing at being a fucking Fleet commander… what the fuck is even happening._

The cerulean nodded and waved to a handful of the soldiers around. “Let’s go,” she said quickly, and they formed a small group and began to move quickly down the corridor, turning. Mallek ran after, craning around the side — he didn’t know why, but he had to see what happened next.

And Amisia walked right up after, following the cerulean… walked without fear. _What is she doing?!_

Mallek looked down the corridor — to the heavy blast doors guarded by a pair of nervous-looking teals.

They died in seconds. The hail of fire cut them down instantly, the bullets punching through them and pinging off against the blast doors. The cerulean waved her hand and the other soldiers stopped in an instant.

“Cease fire!” the cerulean yelled. “Corridor is clear to the blast door. Command on deck!” She snapped to attention as Amisia walked past with a nod. Mallek stood in the middle of the corridor, frozen in place.

He watched as Amisia walked forward toward the blast doors.

Watched as she approached the control panel on the side.

He moved closer… because he needed to hear what came next.

Amisia leaned over, toward the intercom. “Fleet Commander Carmia? My name is Commander Amisia Erdehn of the Alternian Revolutionary Movement — we’ve commandeered the Iustitia and are in the process of securing the ship. You can either surrender peacefully and let us take control of the ship.”

She paused, and Mallek could see the smile creeping up along the side of her mouth. She was… _enjoying_ this… finding her way into this in a way that Mallek had seriously underestimated.

“Or… you can not.”

There wasn’t a response from the intercom. _Of course there isn’t a response. Whoever’s left alive knows that they aren’t taking prisoners here._

Amisia shrugged and turned away from the intercom — walked over to the cerulean commando and nodded. “Any chance you can breach that?”

The cerulean frowned. “No… that’s a class five blast door. There’s nothing getting through that that won’t vent the fucking ship in the process.”

Amisia sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Have engineering seal it off. We’ll transfer control to the backup command bridge. Folkyl’s already hooked into everything — it won’t be a problem. Let the bitch starve inside or find a way to vent her oxygen or some shit. I don’t fucking care.”

He walked back over to Mallek, that same smile still on her face. And Mallek felt cold.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Time to head on down to the hall of records and do a little bit of light reading.”


	27. Up With the Moon

For a long time, Chixie slept… and when she slept, she dreamed. She dreamed that she awoke in a brilliant golden room, lying on a strange longueplank that was far larger than it needed to be. She was wearing strange, golden robes that flowed and draped and allowed her perfect freedom of movement. Through the window, she could see the streaming light of day… but not a day like what she was used to. This was a light that would comfort her rather than burn.

Sliding off the bed, Chixie realized that the floor was warm underfoot, even though it seemed to be made of some kind of stone. It was as if there was some subtle source of heat underneath that radiated out in a way that she found distinctly pleasant even under her bare feet. Walking to the window, she could feel the glow of the light on her — a pleasant glow that she felt seeping right down into her muscles, soothing and relaxing her.

Chixie smiled and looked out the window. Outside, a golden city stretched in every direction. Tall, golden spires loomed overhead and jutted up into the brilliant blue sky above. Looking up, Chixie saw a series of white clouds moving along the sky — clouds that rolled and shifted and changed even as she watched them.

She leaned in the window and watched the clouds for what felt like a long time, and after that long time, she began to realize that the patterns within were, in fact, not random at all. They held meaning, and the more she stared at them, the more that meaning became apparent.

The more she realized what was happening.

* * *

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1702 local time (0802 AUT)

Chixie struggled awake, feeling the slush of the sopor slime as she pushed herself up. The dream, already half-remembered in the waking, was quickly becoming a distant memory as she pulled herself from the sopor and went to haul herself over the edge to stand up. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep for, but she did know that she needed to use the load gaper badly.

Her side ached where the bullet had torn through. Bronya had done a remarkable job of patching her up, especially for someone with no specific experience in performing surgery on other Alternians. Still, it hurt — she’d taken a lot of damage and didn’t particularly care to repeat the procedure. Careful not to aggravate the wound any more, she lifted herself from the sopor and let her bare feet hit the floor softly.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.” A sleepy-sounding voice from the corner, and Chixie turned to see Elwurd sitting on her loungueplank.”

“What the fuck?!” Whatever last vestiges there were of the dream were chased away by the shock of seeing her moirail sitting there, patiently watching her. “What the hell? Elwurd, I’m naked for fuck’s sake!”

Elwurd shrugged and turned away. “I mean, I’m not complaining.”

“That’s not the point!” The indignation was almost overwhelming the pain at this point. But also… she was glad that Elwurd was there. “Never mind… give me a second to use the gaper and get dressed and then we can talk or whatever the fuck you’re here for.”

“Nothing,” Elwurd said plainly. “I just wanted to be here when you woke up.”

* * *

A trip to the ablution block to use the gaper, brush her teeth, and put on fresh clothes later, Chixie finally felt comfortable enough to go actually talk to Elwurd. She walked over the longueplank and sat down next to her, wondering how long she’d been sitting there.

“You’re here,” Chixie said. Elwurd nodded back.

“I’m here all right.” She smiled at Chixie and her eyes squinted in a way that Chixie didn’t think she’d seen much. “You… you had me worried there for a minute.” The smile turned nervous. “Are you okay?”

Chixie reached down and tentatively felt at her side where the jade bloods had stitched her up. “About as okay as I could be with a rifle round going through my side, I think.” Elwurd laughed dryly at this and Chixie smiled.

She glanced around the chambers and noticed a paperback book lying open next to the loungeplank, along with a half-eaten plate of food. “You really sat here and waited for me to wake up, huh?” Elwurd shrugged and nodded to her, glancing around nervously.

“I mean… what else is a good mat— moirail to do, right?” She tried to smooth over it, but Chixie caught the slip.

“We’ve talked about this.” Her voice was kind, but firm. She didn’t want to have the same conversation again.

Elwurd looked embarrassed, staring pointedly down at her hands in her lap. “Sorry, that just kinda came out. Been dealing with a few things lately… feeling kinda confused.”

“Well, why not talk about it?” Chixie asked. She settled back on the loungeplank, looking for a more comfortable position. “I’m not going anywhere with this—” she gestured to her side — “and like you said, what else is a good moirail for?”

This time, Elwurd’s smile was hesitant and uncertain. “Yeah… I guess I could do that.”

“Would it make you feel better if I reassure you that I’m not going to flip ashen and go talking about your business to any involved parties.”

“Wait? How’d you know this—” Elwurd start to talk, but Chixie quickly raised a finger in front of her lips to silence her.

“El, you’re not even a little bit subtle, okay?” Chixie said quietly. “I know that something weird’s been going on between you and Daraya, and I can’t imagine that all got resolved in the few hours I was asleep.”

Elwurd looked away. “We haven’t talked about it yet.”

“Well, that’ll make it pretty hard to talk about stuff!” Chixie said emphatically. “I mean, I know you’re worried about me but I’m okay for now. You want to go talk to your matesprit, I’m not going to stop you on my account.” But the face that Elwurd made in responses told her that there was something else going on here… something that was about more than just being occupied with other things.

Chixie frowned and studied Elwurd closely, looking her over… checking for the little elements of body language that conveyed larger meaning.

“Well, why don’t we start simple?” Chixie asked quietly. She reached out to take Elwurd’s hand, and the cerulean gratefully held on. “Why don’t you tell me what _it_ refers to in this context?”

Elwurd shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Chixie frowned and squeezed her hand. “Look, don’t pretend around me. Moirails, right? No secrets.”

“Moirails,” Elwurd repeated with a smile. “No secrets.” She took a deep breath and let it out all at once in a shuddering sigh. “Okay, sure, that sounds good. So, the thing is… Daraya and I have been matesprits for a bit now. I know we’re kind off and on and it’s mostly just… it’s whatever.” She shrugged, and in that gesture Chixie saw so much of who Elwurd had been in the past. Even before they were pale for each other, Chixie had known Elwurd at least by sight. The punk in the front rows of the concerts who was too badass for anyone else. The one who just didn’t give a fuck, and you could suck her bulge if you thought differently.

The illusion was short-lived, and Elwurd’s shoulders slumped.

“She’s been… I know she was pitch with Lynera for a while, but then the flipped red and I guess I probably shouldn’t seen that coming. And now… Dar’s red for Bronya too.” She shrugged. “Or at least they’re all fucking. I went to go to my spot in the library…” Elwurd trailed off, groaning to herself.

Chixie knew the place. Probably the worst-kept secret in the whole caverns was that several people liked to go to hide in the shadows of the library while they were feeling down. Chixie was convinced that Bronya had specifically set it up to allow for shadows that would conceal the especially moody.

“Yeah… I went to my spot, and I could hear them even walking in. They were very… uh…” Elwurd rolled her eyes up, as if searching for the right word. “Enthusiastic.”

Chixie felt bad for Elwurd. Maybe she and Daraya weren’t anything serious, but it still had to hurt. “I’m… I’m sorry, El.” She took her free hand and laid it on top of Elwurds, squeezing lightly.

“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I don’t know if it’s something that genuinely hurt, or if it was just the realization, more like.”

“The realization of what?”

Elwurd huffed out of her nose and frowned. “That Dar and I are drifting apart. That maybe the whole red thing worked for a little while, but she’s not into me the way that she’s into Lynera… or Bronya. And I guess…” She stopped and pulled her hand away from Chixie, taking it and putting it up against her forehead. “I guess I’m a fucking idiot, because I can’t help but feeling that if I’d just been _nicer_ then none of this would make a fucking difference because we’d still be happily flushed together.”

There was so much regret in Elwurd’s voice that Chixie had to ask. “Do you miss being her matesprit?”

“I don’t know,” Elwurd said, without waiting. It, at least, sounded like an honest answer. “It’s been a while now and I guess I don’t have a good answer to that question. I thought I did for a while… then I realized I was probably just being a selfish bitch… but then… I wonder if maybe there was something there after all.”

Chixie reached out and took Elwurd’s hand again — the troll didn’t protest. “I don’t know if it matters, El. Whether or not you had some genuine feelings for Bronya, she left you.”

She could see the hurt in Elwurd’s eyes… and she felt bad about bringing this up, but it wasn’t something that would get better if she kept ignoring it. “That’s a chapter in your life that closed a while ago. And maybe…” She held her breath for a second — this was something she desperately didn’t want to say, but she couldn’t ignore it. Not if she wanted to be an even halfway-decent moirail. “And maybe this is a chapter in your life that’s ending too… with you and Daraya.”

Chixie wasn’t sure how Elwurd was going to react to her saying that, but she was pretty sure that she didn’t expect the response that followed. Elwurd almost immediately started crying, pulling her hand away again and burying her face in her palms as tears streamed down. When she spoke, it was laced with sniffles and sobs.

“This… this isn’t fair! Everyone I turn red for ends up fucking leaving me! I know that I was pushing Bronya away… and I know I was the worst fucking bitch. But I haven’t acted like that to Daraya! We’ve been good for each other! And now she’s… I feel like she’s gonna move on to other things… to Bronya and Lynera.”

She lifted her head and looked at Chixie. “And you’re not interested in any of that flushed stuff.” Elwurd sighed. “I’m sorry… this sounds so stupid when there’s bombs going off and you just got shot and people dying…”

Chixie shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do about any of that right now. Might as well take the time to talk some things out.” She smiled. “I don’t think anything’s wrong with you, El. You can’t make people do the things you want, no matter how much you care about them.”

“I know…” Elwurd sounded dejected. “I don’t even want to… just to understand.”

“Sometimes there’s nothing really to understand. Sometimes things just are what they are.”

Elwurd nodded, but she still looked downcast. “I guess.”

Chixie leaned in close. “Look, El… I care about you a lot. I’ve got… I’ve got a lot of baggage attached to relationships, but _especially_ to anything red. You understand me?”

_Do you understand yourself?_ What was she implying? What was she hinting at?

What was she feeling?

_Not flushed feelings, that’s for sure. Because that’s not a thing that I know how to handle right now._

“Yeah, I know,” Elwurd said. “I love— uh… I care about you, Chix.”

She leaned in and, without waiting for her rational mind to catch up with how she was feeling, kissed Elwurd on the cheek.

“I love you too.”


	28. Quadrant Theater

Elwurd felt the wet press of lips on her cheek and it took her a minute to process what was happening.

She had been given the dubious gift of a lot of time to think about the position she was in, generally speaking. Expected to serve the Alternian Empire, but high enough on the spectrum to be assured a position that would be safe and comfortable if she wanted.

But she hadn’t wanted her mom to die. Because, deep down inside, she was still that same scared wiggler who’d realized that she was almost completely and utterly alone in the world, and only one person — one creature — had been there to keep her from balling up inside of herself and never coming out again. She looked for that feeling everywhere she could — with every person she had hooked up with in various quadrants and for various lengths of time. In the shaky friendships that she’d formed with others… relationships that might be better described as “alliances” than anything approaching friendship.

And in spite of herself, things had started to shift when she fell in with Mallek. Even if it wasn’t all at once, she was starting to get the sense that this was something worth caring about. A way of ensuring that no one ever had to experience the same kind of crushing, isolating sense of _aloneness_ that she did. That no one would ever have to lose their lusus to the recruitment drones. Their friends and quadrantmates to the cull-squads and brutal whims of the Legiscorpus.

It was something she could at least get on board with. And maybe being willing to make the world a better place didn’t make you a better person, but it certainly didn’t hurt. Maybe that was what it was — what made Elwurd start to feel like she could open herself up to others in a way that was genuine instead of an act of self-defense.

She’d loved Skylla. Maybe only known her for a couple cycles, but still genuinely loved her. Maybe that would’ve faded away once they got to know each other better — simply turned out to be the product of an ephemeral infatuation that would soon disappear.

Maybe. But she’d never had the chance to find out.

Now she’d been moirails with Chixie for a half sweep, and once again someone she cared about had almost been ripped away from her. It made her realize something in a way that was impossible to ignore at this point.

_I love her. A lot._

Not the product of an ephemeral infatuation, but of perigees of getting to know each other. Of growing closer. Of falling for someone who felt _similarly_ but not quite _exactly_ the same. Maybe that stung a little, but she actually, genuinely loved this woman and that meant not pushing her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. A lesson she probably should’ve learned a long time ago…

All of this reflection happened in the briefest of moments, while the quiet warmth of a kiss was still pressed on her cheek and the words still echoed in her ears.

“I love you too.”

The kiss faded away as Chixie sat back up, straightening her back and blushing. She looked embarrassed, mostly, and looked away when Elwurd turned her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That was probably too… uh… I shouldn’t have done that.” She rubbed her left thumb in between the fingers of her right hand — a nervous gesture that Elwurd had gotten to know well over the last half-sweep.

“Why are _you_ apologizing?” Elwurd wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but it definitely wasn’t the direction she was expecting. “All you did was kiss me on the cheek.”

Chixie winced when she heard Elwurd say it, and Elwurd looked at her closely — at the way she wrung her thumb in her hands and shifted her eyes. _She’s scared of this._ She’d talked about her time with Zebruh a bit. Not a lot — the subject made her uncomfortable — but Elwurd had gotten a pretty good idea.

_She’s scared of me._ Except that didn’t quite feel right to Elwurd — didn’t quite make sense. _She’s scared… of being hurt again. Of course. You know that one just as well, right?_

“I accept your apology,” Elwurd said quietly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Chixie relaxed a little and smiled at her.

“Okay, good.” She took a deep breath and pressed her palms together. “It’s just… I think there’s something we need to talk about. Now, if you don’t mind.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

Chixie’s face showed a quick flash of genuine terror that almost immediately faded to the same nervous expression as before. “No! If we don’t talk about it now, I’ll never be able to talk about it. I just… I’ve been doing some thinking and…”

Elwurd couldn’t quite read the expressions flashing on Chixie’s face — the mixture of self-conscious embarrassment and a kind of bashful joy.

“Okay. I guess we can do that.” _Are you ready to hear this? It’s going to change things._ Elwurd swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to smile, but it felt all nervous and wrong.

“So,” Chixie started to speak softly, and as she spoke she leaned in ever-so-slightly closer to Elwurd. “You know I have a lot of… issues when it comes to flushed feelings. Zebruh was… I guess he was the first actual quadrant I had anything to do with.” She flinched at the sound of her own voice uttering the name. “You know how that went.”

Elwurd nodded slightly — Chixie had talked about the last day she was with Zebruh… about how terrified she’d been and how she’d been working on pure adrenaline when she finally got away. Elwurd hadn’t said so at the time because it felt insensitive to do, but it had reminded her of how she’d felt when she’d run for her life from the drone who killed her lusus.

Chixie smiled slightly. “I never got a chance to really think about how I felt about anyone, actually. Because there was always that spectre hanging over me… _Who are you talking to? What’s his name? Why did she look at you like that? Why do you want to look nice today? Who are you trying to impress?_ ” Chixie screwed her face into a look of pure disgust. “I fucking hated him. Every second or every day I was with him.”

She reached out with her hands, palms up, and Elwurd put her own hands on top, curling her fingers and intertwining them with Chixie’s. The bronze blood leaned in again, and her voice got quieter.

“The thing is… I was happy to have you as a moirail. And I know maybe you had some issues with quadrants in the past but… you were always nice to me and considerate to Daraya and you seemed to feel really bad about what happened between you and Bronya.” Elwurd felt herself reeling a little at that — at the memory of all the ways she wished she’d done better. Memories that served no purpose now other than to keep her from repeating the same failures.

Chixie stopped talking and looked down. Elwurd realized that she’d been leaning closer and closer as they spoke, and now she was only a few inches from her face.

“I wasn’t red for you when we started this. I want you to know that because I don’t want you to think I’m lying about this stuff… I was happy just being pale. I was happy that you were okay with that.” She stopped again, and took in another breath. Another pause for her to work this through. Elwurd didn’t interrupt.

“And then I started getting all these… uh… I started thinking about you like I hadn’t before. Like…” she blushed deeply. “You know… uh…” She stammered, leaned forward, and ended up with her forehead pressed up against Elwurd’s, staring into the cerulean’s eyes.

“I started having all these really _red_ thoughts about you and I thought… well, I must be a liar because I didn’t say any of that to you…”

“I don’t think you were lying,” Elwurd responded in a voice that was the faintest trace of her usually boisterous tone. She could actually _feel_ Chixie relax as soon as she said it — could feel how Chixie scooted closer and her nose was pressed up close to her own

“I wasn’t lying. I didn’t have those feelings… and then I did. So I guess what I’m asking is… uh…” She let out a breath in a puff of air that tickled the tip of Elwurd’s nose. “Are you okay with that? Because we can keep being moirails and I won’t ever bring it up again — I promise.”

“You’re saying you’re red for me?” Elwurd asked slowly. “And you want to know if I’m… okay with that? If I want to be in that kind of quadrant with you?”

“Yes,” Chixie said softly. “In… uh… in both quadrants, I guess. I don’t want to stop being your moirail either.”

“Chix… I don’t care _what_ you want to call it as long as we’re both clear on what it means.”

Elwurd would’ve sworn that she felt the heat coming off of Chixie’s face. It was, she told herself later, completely unreasonable to think that. She couldn’t really _see_ Chixie blushing exactly — not from so close to her — but she knew what was happening all the same.

Her voice was tiny and far away. “What it means is I want to kiss you again and…” Elwurd had to strain to hear. “I want you to touch me. The way that you touch Daraya or… anyone else you’ve been with.” She pushed in with her head, her lips an inch from Elwurd’s mouth. “I think I’m okay with that now, if we go slowly.”

She leaned in again, and this time she kissed Elwurd on the lips.

Elwurd had kissed a lot of women before — even a couple she’d been in love with — but this felt different somehow. It was soft and hesitant, but there was a kind of certainty behind it that was hard to ignore. _This isn’t the first time she’s done this… but it’s the first time she’s wanted to._

Elwurd felt Chixie take her hands and bring them to her waist, pushing them up under the sweater she’d put on after getting out of the ablution block. Gently, but firmly, she pressed Elwurd’s hands down onto her waist. It was smooth and soft, and a little bit squishy… comfortable, inviting. Elwurd found herself thinking about kissing Chixie somewhere distinctly more intimate than the lips… and now she was the one blushing like this was her first kiss.

She broke the kiss. “Just… just this, okay? Nothing more — not right now. I think I’ll probably… I’ll want to sometime soon, but not just yet.”

“I mean… that’s fine!” Elwurd said back, still marveling at the feeling of Chixie’s smooth skin under her palms. “Whatever you want to do… or not do… it’s… it’s fine…” It was getting hard to concentrate again. _Why am I the one acting so flustered here?!_

“Thank you.” She leaned in again — kissed Elwurd right on the mouth again — and reached out and put her own arms around Elwurd’s waist, clasping her hands together on the small of her back.

Elwurd had worried, once, if she was always going to want to push Chixie to do more than she was comfortable with. To try to get her to press her own boundaries for her own selfish needs. But she’d found that she didn’t want to do that — quite the opposite, she wanted to make sure that Chixie was comfortable because she _cared_ about her… because she _loved_ her.

So even now, with her hands on Chixie’s waist, under her sweater, touching her bare skin. With thoughts running through her mind that were flashing so incredibly, blindingly _scarlet_ that she felt like she was going to explode…

...but she was still content. Happy.

Satisfied.

If Chixie wanted to do more — at this point, Elwurd felt like she’d agree to do basically _anything_ with, to, or for this woman — then that was fine. But, at the same time, if Chixie told her that this was all a mistake and that she didn’t actually feel that way and it had all been a huge misunderstanding…

Well, it would sting.

But she would still be happy.

Satisfied.

There was still that little voice in the back of her mind — the voice that whispered _have you really changed at all? Do you REALLY care about her?_ And she wasn’t sure if that voice would ever truly be gone… not for a good, long while.

But right now… she told that little voice in the back of her mind to shut the fuck up.

She closed her eyes and kissed Chixie again.


	29. One More Reason to Worry

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1710 local time (0810 AUT)

The anti-drone rifle was all that was left behind when the smoke finally cleared and Konyyl managed to get onto the roof. Past the broken body of the bronze blood who wouldn’t stop screaming. Past the ruddy paste on the wall that had once been the breaching team. She went through alone, not wanting to risk the lives of anyone else under her command.

It didn’t matter, because whoever had been up there was already gone. Maybe they had run as soon as they fired off the roof, and maybe they’d waited until the very last possible second to run using the cover of the explosion. It didn’t matter, because the Alternian Army was up one drone rifle, down three-going-on-four soldiers, and had gained exactly nothing of value.

Five hours later and the city was quiet again. They were back in their storefront base of operations and whatever had been happening was over. The tactical network was awash in updates on what was happening — the damaged drone hadn’t been recovered. The transport that had been off-course had disappeared off scopes. Three killed in the blast.

Four killed in the blast.

Konyyl shut the tactical feed off and told one of her Specialists that she was going off rotation and she went into the back room to get away from the rest of them.

And she did something she had never done before… she sat down on the floor, leaned forward, and cried silently. In that moment — and she would never admit this to anyone — she missed her moirail desperately. She was willing to wade through blood and fire for the soldiers under her command. Was willing to fight, kill, and die for them. But the Empire? The Empire was an indifferent and cruel monster. The entity that had been responsible for her moirail’s death.

She almost jumped when she heard the voice behind her.

“Are you okay… Sergeant?” A pause. “Konyyl?”

Konyyl whirled around to see her medic — Marsti — standing in the door, brows furrowed. The front of her body armor and sleeves of her uniform were stained with dried bronze and rust blood — all of it turned a muddy brown once it had dried. She wasn’t carrying her weapon, and she looked tired… Konyyl didn’t plan to say anything about either.

“What is it… Marsti?” Konyyl asked quickly. “I was just in here—”

“Crying. I know.” Konyyl felt a hot anger flare up in her, but Marsti’s voice wasn’t judgmental — wasn’t stating anything other than a simple fact. Konyyl settled back down and shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe.”

The rust blood — the medic — Marsti walked over and sat down next to Konyyl, the sound of her gear shifting heavy against the silence that had come in over the city after the explosion. She cocked her head and the joint popped lightly.

“Just gonna do it yourself, huh?”

She glared. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“With all due respect, Sergeant…” _She chose my rank on purpose._ “You just saw four of your command turned to paste by some fucking rebel bomb. I just spent the better part of a half hour watching someone I went through training with bleed out on the inside because I don’t have access to jade blood medicine out here in the field. _I’m_ not okay… you already told me about your moirail… it’s okay to not be good with this, Konyyl.”

Konyyl growled and leaned forward, pressing her chin up as close to her knees as the body armor would allow and frowning. “Doesn’t fucking matter. What was the point of any of this in the first place? Come here and show how tough the Army is? No one in this city gives a shit about some show of force… they’re all just waiting to be dragged offworld anyway. For what? What’s any of it worth?”

Marsti didn’t say anything.

“Oh Empress alive, we get to fight and die so that the Alternian Empire can have another planet somewhere. _Off by ten, dead by twelve…_ isn’t that what they say in the rustie training?”

“I was lucky,” Marsti said. “I got pulled for medic training. I wasn’t expecting that, but…”

Konyyl nodded and tapped at her gear absently. Body armor. Radio. Magazines for her carbine. Knife. All the tools of the trade. “Sure. Everything’s changing because of the rebellion. But nothing’s changing. The High Imperator is dead, but the Empress is still up there looking down on all of us.” Konyyl laughed. “Except that makes the ridiculous assumption that she gives half a hoofbeast shit about any of us.”

Marsti, once again, didn’t say anything. Konyyl snorted through her nose and kept moving her hand from point to point on her gear. Pistol. Utility pouch. Trauma kit.

“I’d burn it down too, if I could.” She shrugged. It was something that she could be culled for saying, but no one seemed to care much about those nuances when you were on the ground. Konyyl figured that it wouldn’t matter when they were all inevitably dragged into whatever got them killed.

“Yeah…” Marsti trailed off, her face traced with the hints of a sad smile. She pressed her hands together in front of her mouth and yawned.

“You should grab some sleep while you’re off rotation, Specialist. Who knows when you’ll get another chance.” She looked over at Marsti, who was nodding and frowning at the same time. “What’s wrong?”

“Konyyl…” she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about your moirail. I really am. I never got to know her, but I’m sure she was a hell of a woman if you gave her the time of day.”

Konyyl snorted and shrugged. “I dunno… I was a bitch to her for a while, then I wasn’t. Usual stuff.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” There was a small twinkle in Marsti’s eyes. Two small moments of silence, and then her voice came back — quieter and further away this time. “Konyyl… I don’t want to be here.”

This time, it was Konyyl who didn’t say anything.

“I don’t want to be down here in the dirt, patching up people who’ll just die anyway. I don’t want to always smell blood and gunpowder and fear all the time. But this is where they sent me… so this is where I’ll die.”

Konyyl looked closely at her — at the way she sat and the look on her face — and realized that this was a woman who was utterly resigned to what she was a part of now. Her shoulders slumped and her chin rested on her blood-spattered body armor. Without even thinking about it, Konyyl slid over, settled in next to Marsti, and put her arms around the rust blood’s shoulders. Marsti sighed and closed her eyes.

“I know you used to be doing independent work before you got recruited… I’d heard of you even before I joined. How’d you do it? How’d you shut off the parts of yourself that kept screaming that this was the wrong way to live?”

Konyyl didn’t answer — she sat there and stared straight ahead, holding Marsti in her arms, cradled up against her shoulder. Once, she thought she’d had an answer for that question — thought it was a pretty good one, even.

“I have no idea,” she said. It wasn’t very satisfying to say, but it was at least honest.

They had another few moments of silence before the harsh grate of Kuprum’s voice cut in from the doorway to the back room. “If you’re done pailing in here or whatever, you need to come see this.”

* * *

“This better be fucking good, Specialist,” Konyyl growled as she and Marsti walked out of the back room and into the main area of the shop. Set up in the middle was the command console that Kuprum had been carrying in a backpack before. It consisted of a small portable screen, bio-electric power converter, and an array of communications gear designed to seamlessly integrate with Fleet and Army systems.

“Get off my bulge already,” Konyyl glared at him and he shook his head. “Sorry… get off my bulge already, _Sergeant._ I need to show you because otherwise you won’t fucking believe me.”

Kuprum picked up the portable screen, stretching it out to the limit of the tether cables that connected it to all the other elements of the system. He handed it over to Konyyl — the display was showing the real-time Fleet tactical updates. Kuprum pointed one show-clawed finger to the screen. “This started coming in around 0820 universal… Fleet carrier Iustitia reports a malfunction in the core systems and throws an automated distress signal out. Their helm goes completely dark, then everything comes back online and the ship’s reporting all systems normal.”

“So?” Konyyl asked skeptically. “You pulled me aside to tell me a carrier had a system malfunction? Fuck you, Specialist, I’m going to go sit down.”

“No no no — don’t you _get_ it? Look, I was _supposed_ to be assigned to a ship — I know about this shit.”

Konyyl rolled her eyes. “Fine. What does it mean?”

He leaned in, as if he had to keep his voice down in order to not be overheard. It was absolutely ridiculous, but it did seem like this was serious at least… so Konyyl listened patiently.

“Even if the ship loses power, the helm will still be in contact with comms… because the Helmsman is powering their internal systems themselves. The only way that goes dark is if the helmsman is killed.”

Kuprum was starting to tap his foot nervously, staring down at the screen in front of him. Konyyl wasn’t going to lie and say she knew much about how the Fleet shit worked — even having Azdaja for a matesprit she had only picked up the basics — but there was something else going on here and she had the wild idea she knew what it was.

“Specialist, what does it mean that the ship went back to reporting all normal, then?”

“Means that someone else took over control.”

That didn’t make sense — the idea that someone was able to just _take over_ the Fleet’s largest, most powerful ship currently in orbit? It was an idea so ridiculous on its face that her mind didn’t even want to consider it. And yet… there was something so strangely compelled about the logic of it.

“Specialist, I need to get in touch with someone. Will the palmhusk networks still work if the ship’s communications are down?”

“Sure,” Kuprum said with a quick shrug. “We’re using the relays set up on the rooftops here and that’s more than enough to get out ot the orbital relays and trip directly to the palmhusk you’re handshaking to.”

“Good.” She turned away and took out the palmhusk, finding Azdaja’s contact and quickly pulling it up.

kull4hire began chatting with daja9001 at 1732 AST (0832 AUT)

Konyyl

what the fuck is going on up there?   
my comm specialist said that the ship lost contact   
something about the helm being taken out?

Azdaja

||| I don’t know yet! I’m in my quarters. |||   
||| Power all went out and emergency came on. |||

Konyyl

Are you okay?!

Azdaja

||| I’m fine. Better than ever. |||

||| That’s a lie — I’m freaking the fuck out. |||   
||| No clue what just happened but something bad. |||   
||| We’re on full emergency power only… |||

||| Oh shit, hold up |||

Konyyl frowned — this wasn’t a good sign either. Azdaja was nothing if not collected, and if he was worried then it was something bad that was happening. She turned to Kuprum, who still had that same look of bafflement on his face.

“In theory, what would someone need to take over control like that?”

“Uh… I mean, you’re need a helmsman interface. You can’t just rip out the helmsman without killing them and the interface, so you’d need another one to link to the ship. You’d also need some way to get into the ship’s control interface. A drone, maybe?”

_The drone that went down… the transport with no identification that picked it up._ “Empress fucking damn it,” Konyyl muttered.

Konyyl

hey my comms specialist says they’d need a helmsman interface   
that ring any bells?

Azdaja

||| Yes. How the fuck did you know about that? |||

Konyyl

you somewhere SAFE?

Azdaja

||| Yeah, I’m in my quarters right now. Like I said. |||

Had he said that? Konyyl rubbed her eyes absently with the back of her hand and squinted at the screen. She was having trouble keeping track of the conversation because everything was happening far too fast now. Everything was speeding up… just like before. Konyyl felt it in her pusher — felt the too-tight feeling that she was never going to fully get used to, no matter how many times things went to shit.

Konyyl

stay in your fucking room   
something bad’s gonna happen

Azdaja

||| Yeah no fucking |||

||| Fuck. |||   
||| Gunfire. |||

Konyyl

stay safe you fucking IDIOT   
i care about you — you keep yourself together   
okay?!

Azdaja

||| Of course. I’ll let you know what happens. |||   
||| If I can. |||

Konyyl stowed the palmhusk quickly back into her utility pouch and grit her teeth, staring ahead at the far wall of the store and slowly clenching and unclenching her jaw. She heard Kuprum shift beside her and start to speak, but she cut him off.

“Don’t. Whatever you’re going to say… save it. There’s nothing any of us can do except watch what happens on the tac feed.” She walked toward the back room again, paused for a second, and spoke again. “I’m going to get some sleep. If something big happens, wake me up. If not, then do me a favor and fuck off.”


	30. The Coded Ring

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the City of Hivefield - 1639 local time (0739 AUT)

Moving across the city unseen was harder than they’d expected — Stelsa was familiar with the underground path that they came in through, but beyond that the pathways that led them to their destination unnoticed by the Alternian Army were closed to her knowing. Fortunately, Boldir had no small measure of experience in moving through the city using various back-alleys and hidden paths, but the progress was slow going.

It took a couple hours to reach the area that Boldir called home — an abandoned building in the middle of the worst part of the lowblood district, down near the edge of a stinking runoff drain. It was unpleasant, but it was somewhere that people were unlikely to come without reason. And hidden behind a pile of junk was a small passage that led into the basement of an abandoned building.

Inside the basement was the setup of someone who lived sparsely. A pile in the corner in lieu of any kind of recupercoon, and a set of boxes that overflowed with mis-matched personal effects. Stelsa got the distinct impression that Boldir was living almost completely off the grid — stealing and scraping together what she could. Considering she was most likely cull-on-sight now, that was probably the only option that she had.

Behind one of those unassuming piles of junk, Boldir pulled away a hidden compartment to reveal the real point of interest — a large bag full of what had to be thousands of pages of documents. Stacked into folders, organized with tabs, and more orderly and well-kept than literally anything else in the place. Boldir had stayed true to some part of her duty as a librarian even here, keeping the documents organized and away from the elements.

She’d told Stelsa what everything was, and Stelsa had begun to skim through as quickly as she could. Occasionally, she’d hand something to Tyzias with specific instructions about what to do or what to look for, but this was her natural environment.

And after an hour of looking through documents, she had a better picture of what was going on. It filled her with a mounting sense of dread.

* * *

Stelsa set the last of the documents down and took off her glasses, rubbing them absently on the corner of her shirt before replacing them on the bridge of her nose and frowning.

“So… I’ve gotten enough to break at least part of the cypher,” she said cautiously. “But there’s more to it…”

Tyzias and even Boldir were staring intently, waiting for more. It was clear that Boldir had grabbed these documents with little regard for what they actually _were_ , and in some cases they were basically worthless. Supply requisitions, relocation orders, inventory sheets… the bureaucratic detritus that the entirety of the Alternian Empire produced. Even the Alternian Intelligence Service had to track their inventory and manage their personnel.

But buried in among that, there was the thread of something more. Something bigger.

Stelsa sighed. “There’s other references to Operation Watchword here… they were coded, but I found one of the main keys and was able to decode it from there.” She looked over at Tyzias, who was getting more than a little starry-eyed as she explained. “Zizi, what is it?”

“Oh, nothing, Stels…” she grinned. “Just hearing you explain this is…”

“Well, you can save that for later!” she said sharply. “Zizi, this is serious!” Tyzias straightened up, muttered a quick apology, and motioned for Stelsa to continue.

“Thank you. The references are mostly tangential, and always clouded in a dozen other things, but I think I see a consistent throughline of what’s happening. There’s a supply chain that runs from various points throughout the Empire, and the destination is always the same — the Pink Moon.”

“What?” Tyzias leaned forward, her eyes wide. “So this has something to do with the Empress?!”

Stelsa waved a hand in front of her wave and shook her head. “Not necessarily. The Empress _is_ based on the Pink Moon, but there’s a lot of other things up there. Most relevant to us, I think… is this…” She grabbed a specific folder that she’d set aside and opened it to double-check the references. “This is a series of supply requisitions for the equipment needed for drone manufacture.”

“I thought the Alternian drone facility was on the Green Moon, with the Fleet base,” Tyzias said. In her eyes, Stelsa could see the recognition starting to click into place. “They’re setting up another drone facility?”

“Possibly,” she said. “Either the production of more drones, or the maintenance of existing ones. That’s unclear. But… there’s something else, and it’s very strange.”

Tyzias frowned and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Okay, Stels… I know you have a flair for the dramatic when it comes to revealing information, but please just tell us what’s going on. This is obviously serious.”

“Hmph.” Stelsa glared at her matesprit. “Fine. But I’m going to pay you back for that remark later.”

“Fair enough,” Tyzias said with that quirked little smile that always made Stelsa feel a little bit of an ache in her blood pusher.

“The other supply requisitions I found were for equipment from grub caverns. Including the live transfer of at least one mother grub… but not of any lusii. Obviously this is strange, so I looked through a few of the specifics and found one old one that was very interesting — the Southern Caverns were on the list. It was supposed to happen a half-sweep ago, but I’m assuming the collapse of the caverns and the death of the mother grub there put a stop to that, generally speaking.”

The look on Tyzias and Boldir’s faces was one of absolute puzzlement. Tyzias raised a finger and tapped it to her nose, thoughtfully. “Is there more that you’re holding back for a clever reveal, or is that kind of where the trail goes cold?”

Stelsa shuffled through the documents, looking for what she’d found before. It hadn’t been much — a simple executive summary on one of the master requisition forms — but sometimes a little bit of the right information was all you needed. Stelsa frowned as she reviewed the document, tapping a few points with her fingertip for emphasis for no one but herself.

“No, I just don’t remember everything offhand. There was one summary of the project… and it describes it as a _drone improvement and replacement project._ But I can’t figure out what connection the grubbing supplies have to the drone repair facilities.”

“The Empress is building her own private army…” Tyzias said thoughtfully, letting her voice trail off.

Boldir was the one who spoke up next — “The Empress already has a private army! She has the might of the Alternian Empire at her back and what does she need with more drones?”

“Maybe not _more_ drones,” Stelsa said, rubbing her chin lightly. “Maybe _better_ drones?”

Tyzias still looked skeptical. “I dunno, Stels. This all still feels like it might just be us chasing our tails around and around. What’re we gonna _do_ with this information?”

“We are going to take it back to the caverns and see if the other file we have sheds any more light on it. If not, we’re going to get everyone together and try to figure it out logically.” She frowned and looked down at her palmhusk, checking the time quickly. “We really need to try to head out as soon as we can. I’d prefer not to have to travel the city by daylight, and we should still have enough time to at least get back to the hiveblock.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tyzias said, shifting her eyes toward the pile of documents. “What’re we taking?”

“I marked a few as critical. If Boldir has some sort of bag we can easily store them in there. Or she can assist us and we can carry more, perhaps?”

She looked over at Boldir, who was frowning deeply — her brow furrowed and her front two teeth stuck out prominently as she did so, giving the impression of deep thought and contemplation. When she spoke, it was only one word — “No.”

“What do you mean, _no?!_ ” Tyzias yelled, waving her hands. “You think that it’s gonna be safer hanging out here in an occupied city and waiting for your luck to run too thin to save you? Is that seriously what’s going through your pan?!”

Boldir crossed her arms and shook her head, becoming even more resolute. “I said no. I don’t mind if you take whatever documents you want... I trust you not to use them for anything bad or anything. But I can’t come with you.”

Tyzias’ face was now a mask of utter bafflement. Stelsa went to put a hand on her shoulder and she smiled gratefully before continuing. “Seriously… why?”

The voice that came back was small. “Because I can’t put you at risk.”

“What do you mean?” Stelsa asked, trying to keep her voice compassionate instead of confused. “Why would we be any more at risk with you?”

“Because I’m cull-on-sight, and that means I’m in the drone registry. All the Librarians are if we leave our posts. It’s one of the ways that the Empire keeps us from trying to run. Because there’s nowhere we can ever go that we’ll be free to just live our lives.” She frowned. “You both seem like you’re good people… even with the whole… gun thing.” She glared at Stelsa, who smiled nervously, but then her expression softened.

“But if we get spotted, there’s no way for you to talk yourself out of it if I’m with you. You’ll be killed and then… whatever this is, they’ll just keep doing it.”

What she was saying about the cull-on-sight protocols tripped something in Stelsa’s mind — something she couldn’t quite fix on at the moment, but something that was important all the same. It was too slippery — too easily forgotten. Instead, she focused on talking to Boldir.

“We can protect you. We’re the New Alternian Defense Force! A real people’s army… we even have an intelligence division!”

She heard Tyzias laugh at that, and then quickly apologize.

“Okay, so it’s just Zizi and I right now but… we’re always looking to expand. You can come with us and live in the free caverns! The Empire doesn’t know it exists and you can be free. You won’t have to live like… this.” She gestured at the debris scattered around the room and the generally dirty condition that everything was in. “Please at least think about it?”

Stelsa was sure that this would reassure Boldir, but it seemed to have the exact opposite effect. “A cavern?! Are you on the registries?”

“The… jade registry? No, it’s not an official cavern. So… no registry.”

That seemed to help a little, but Boldir still looked worried. “But what about the scanning registry? The one that goes by features and looks for stuff that’s interesting or worth sending a drone to investigate. If they fly over your cavern and notice anything, it’ll send drones or soldiers for sure.”

That was what it was — the thing in the back of Stelsa’s mind clicked into the foreground and she swore at herself for not thinking of it sooner. If they wanted to be free from the drone overflight, they would need to find some way to remove the place from the drone overflight registry. Unfortunately, that was something far outside Stelsa’s experience. Right now, she had other, more immediate concerns.

“Okay, well… we have some really smart people back there. I’m sure one of them can figure out how to do it. We even have…” She was about to say _someone who hacked the Empress’ Chittr account_ but the words never passed her lips. Mallek had made his intentions perfectly clear.

“I won’t do it,” Boldir said with a firm shake of her head. “No matter what you say, I’m going to stay here where I at least feel like I have some control over things.” She turned away and began to walk from pile to pile of her possessions. “Now you need to go — morning will be here soon.”

Stelsa was about to protest when she felt the soft pressure of a hand gripping her upper arm. She turned to see Tyzias, and her face was such a strange mixture of pain and resignation. She shook her head. “Stels… we did all we can to convince her. It’s her choice. You can’t make people choose the way you want… even if it’s the right decision.”

So, without another word, Stelsa and Tyzias gathered up all the documents into a carrying bag that Boldir had provided. Stelsa made sure to grab anything that seemed to have even the smallest relationship to Operation Watchword and whatever was happening up on the Pink Moon. The pieces swirled around in her head — the drone-building components and the fact that they seemed to want a grub-cavern up there. It was still a vague picture — still missing one critical piece of insight.

“When we get back, we should talk to Bronya,” Stelsa said thoughtfully. “If it was her cavern on the list, maybe she knows why that might be. Maybe we’ll find one of the missing pieces there.”

Tyzias nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good, Stels.”

Boldir didn’t say anything else to them, but showed them to the entrance and nodded resolutely. Right before getting down on her hands and knees to crawl to the entrance, Stelsa stopped and looked at Boldir.

“Thank you. And… I’m sorry.” Stelsa looked away, embarrassed, when Boldir didn’t respond. Sheepishly, Stelsa got down and began to crawl after Tyzias. As she was fully entering the small tunnel that connected the room in the abandoned hiveblock with the outside, she heard a small voice behind her.

“I forgive you.”


	31. A Roundabout Way

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1821 local time (0921 AUT)

They had all talked for a little while longer — once they all came down off the giddy high of the realization of shared-but-unexplored feelings, there was a lot to discuss. Then they’d… just kind of held each other for a while. Daraya still wasn’t sure how to process everything that had been happening in her personal relationships over the last few cycles, but she was working on it.

After all of that, they had to go their separate ways for a while. All of them still had their duties to attend to as jade bloods, after all. The caverns were still, after everything, brooding caverns. More than that, they represented a new way of approaching Alternian society — one that nurtured the grubs and wigglers rather than forcing them to go fend for themselves. Every one of the wigglers raised like this was another person who would carry that revolutionary spirit through their whole lives.

It also, however, meant that Daraya had nursery duty that morning.

None of the wigglers were old enough for any kind of real teaching yet beyond the basics of talking and getting along with each other — a half-sweep wasn’t _that_ long. But they _were_ extremely rambunctious, and without each being assigned an individual lusus to raise them out in the wild somewhere, they tended to have a lot of pent-up energy that mainly manifested in them running around screaming and playing with each other.

Daraya arrived a little bit late and found an annoyed-looking Lanque standing there in the nursery space that had been set up for the wigglers to play in. He narrowed his eyes at her and took out a palmhusk, tapping it impatiently.

“I texted you an hour ago about your shift. What were you _doing?_ ” He glared at her, then looked closer. Daraya felt like she was being scanned by a drone… and suddenly Lanque’s face lit up. “Oh, wait a minute…” He stepped in closer and looked her up and down, and Daraya felt _very_ self-conscious. “Wait… a… minute.”

“Lanque, I’m here now. Go… I dunno, go fill a pail or something.”

“Speaking of that,” he said, grinning. “So I texted you, and then when you didn’t respond for a while I text Lynera because I figured you and her have been getting all red and cozy together and maybe you just… lost track of time.”

_I hate how close he is to being right._ Daraya shifted back on her heels and looked around the room. The wigglers running back and forth and playing rough with each other suddenly seemed like a pleasant alternative to whatever was happening here… but Lanque kept grinning.

“Well, she didn’t answer so I finally just texted _Bronya_ because I figure she’s always responsible and she’ll pull you out of your own nook if need be.” He leaned in, the same barkbeast-grin on his face. “And she didn’t respond _either_ and that just never happens.”

“Is there a point you’re getting at with all of this, Lanque?” Daraya asked pointedly. “I’m on shift now, I’ll watch the little ankle-biters. You go… do whatever you want, honestly. I do _not_ fucking care.”

“Mmm,” Lanque said pensively. “You’re right. But… you see… I noticed a specific shade of green lipstick on your face.”

Daraya’s hand went to her cheek and came away with the faint traces of dark green lipstick. She could feel the embarrassed flush crawling right into her cheeks.

Lanque tapped his nose. “You might want to wash your face the next time you make out with Bronya… or Lynera, for that matter.” Daraya felt that flush burst into a full-on cascade of something that felt like shame but wasn’t quite. More the sense of being suddenly put on the spot. “She uses a lighter shade, and it’s all _over_ your neck.”

“That is none of your goddamn business!” Daraya snapped. “Go get yourself a slice of grubloaf or something and get the fuck off my bulge.”

“Oh, I’ve got _no_ interest in your bulge, Daraya — don’t worry about that. But… Lynera… and Bronya, apparently. Mmm.” He winked. “Tell me something…” He leaned close to her ear and the next words were a loud stage-whisper. “Was it at the same time?”

Daraya threw up her hands and took a step back, still glaring at him. “Oh fuck you! That’s none of your damn business!”

He shrugged and raised his eyebrows, his face the very picture of passive disinterest. “I mean, I’m just saying it’s a lot of fun is all. You should definitely try it if you haven’t already.”

_Oh believe me the thought has absolutely crossed my mind._ But there was no way in hell that she was actually going to say that to him.

“What the three of us do together is none of your business, since you don’t seem interested in cutting in on it.” She glared — and then a second later flushed bright when she realized she’d just confirmed his whole theory. “Fuck.”

“Yes, I believe we’ve established that’s what the three of you are involved in.” Lanque shrugged. “I’m just messing with you anyway — I hope you three have a lot of fun pailing each other in new and interesting ways. I was right about Lynera just needing a little tumble before, so…”

“Wait a minute.” Daraya felt herself getting angry — a flash of a very different kind of heat behind her skin. “You’re still on that bullshit?!”

Lanque narrowed his eyes and shrugged at her, and she only felt the anger growing. He’d always joked — half-joked? — about how Lynera just needed to get fucked in order to chill out a little bit. For a while, she’d laughed along with it, but… it felt so very hollow now. It felt like the kind of stupid game that wigglers played.

“Seriously!” She snapped. “You shouldn’t be such a shit to her all the time.”

“Oh, I’m just having fu—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Daraya was surprised at the ferocity in her own voice — at the quick conviction she felt to stand up against this. There was a time when she would’ve wholeheartedly agreed with Lanque. There was another time where she would’ve just laughed along out of habit rather than any genuine conviction. But now… she was angry.

“You don’t know shit about her. Is she awkward about talking to people? Yes. Is she inexperienced… yes…” _Although that part is feeling less and less true as things go on._ “But Lynera cares about Bronya and she cares about me. Yeah, it helped her to open up to us… but if you reduce it to her just needing a good fucking again I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

_Holy shit what am I saying?!_ The thing of it was… she meant every word of it. She’d been through enough shit and enough hell that continuing to make fun of this woman for being awkward, or for not knowing how to handle her different feelings… _Not knowing is why you spend so much time in the ablution block, wanting to wash away blood that was never there._

“Do you understand me?” she growled at Lanque… and the grin was off his face. He looked insulted, but he also looked _worried._

“Sure, Daraya. I’m sorry…”

“She’s got feelings, y’know?” Daraya said, as if that wasn’t obvious. “She cares about people, even if she’s sometimes weird about how she shows it. And honestly… if we all want to fuck each other’s brains out or stay as chaste as conclave jades in orbit around some shithole colony, then what business is it of yours? Grow the fuck up — you’re almost twelve.”

Lanque frowned at her and continued to look indignant, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, with a dismissive wave he walked out of the nursery, leaving Daraya alone to loosely supervise the wigglers that were playing there. She settled against a wall, watching, and absently wiped at her neck.

“So you sorted things with Bronya and Lynera, huh?” Elwurd’s voice was unmistakable, coming from the doorway. Daraya turned to yell at her too — to tell her that this was none of her fucking business… and then she saw Elwurd’s face.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen Elwurd like that before. There was an expression that seemed to combine introspection and regret with a sort of bittersweet acknowledgement of something unspoken. Daraya wasn’t under the illusion that Elwurd was incapable of sincerity, but it still felt strange to see it on such blatant display.

“We need to talk, Dar,” she said quietly. And she was right. Daraya nodded and patted the wall.

“Come on over and watch some rowdy wigglers with me and we’ll talk.”

The air shifted slightly as Elwurd leaned back heavily on the wall, propping herself on her elbows and sticking her foot out a bit. She eased back and sighed, looking straight ahead. Daraya glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “What did you want to talk _about?_ ”

She already felt like she had a pretty good idea.

The sigh that came out of Elwurd’s lips was long and heavy and full of meaning. It was the kind of sigh that proceeded a confession.

“I’m red for Chixie.”

Daraya shrugged. “Yeah, I know. You’re not very subtle about that.” She laughed and squinted at Elwurd. “This is your big talking point? Are you feeling okay?”

Another sigh.

“Sorry, that’s not quite the right way to put it… I’m red _with_ Chixie. Flushed for each other. We…” She looked down at her feet. “We kissed a bunch.”

“Huh,” Daraya was trying to process this new information. “I thought she wasn’t into that kinda stuff.”

With a shrug, Elwurd responded. “Yeah… I thought so too but… I guess it’s more complicated than that.”

“Okay. I mean… I’m happy for both of you, that’s awesome. But you don’t _need_ to tell me this. We’re not matesprits — you said the stuff between you and me was casual, so it’s casual.” Elwurd frowned — she was seeming a lot more bothered by this than Daraya had ever been. Daraya squinted. “This isn’t… you’re not gonna get on me for what I’ve got going on with Lynera and Brony—” _Oh fuck I didn’t mean to say that._ Elwurd quirked up an eyebrow, but she didn’t respond to the slip.

“I’m not saying you did anything wrong at all,” Elwurd said. “I’m more saying… I’m not comfortable keeping it up anymore.”

Daraya cocked her head and tapped the wall behind them with her nails, one at a time. “So… you’re breaking up with me?” She didn’t quite mean for it to sound hurt — they hadn’t really been in a quadrant or anything — but it still stung at least a little bit. Daraya knew that made her a massive hypocrite, given what she’d been up to, but that rationale didn’t change the feeling in her pusher.

“I guess? I know we never had something serious but… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right doing this when Chixie’s…” Elwurd shrugged. “She’s been through a lot and she’s…” It seemed like she was trying to find the right word — trying to find the one perfect way to put things that would make everything make sense and put it into the proper perspective.

The thing of it was, Daraya had a feeling that she knew exactly what Elwurd meant. Chixie was brave — she would face down the Empress herself unarmed if she needed to — but Chixie was also raw and vulnerable. It was like a wound that had just finished healing and was now closed up but sensitive and easy to re-open. There were parts of her that were still so easy to hurt.

Daraya looked closely at Elwurd, who still wasn’t meeting her eyes. “You’re not the same as you were.”

Elwurd scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fucking _right._ I’m still the same bitch I always was. Take that however you want to, I guess.”

“No… you’re not. I’m not either.” She smiled at Elwurd, who kept avoiding her eyes. “It’s okay. We both had stuff to work on. We… still have things to work on.” Daraya’s hands went involuntarily to her arms, scrubbing.

“Yeah,” Elwurd responded — her voice was shaking, just a little bit. “I guess… that’s true.”

_Oh holy shit she actually loves Chixie. She flipped right from pale to red… and hard._

“I think that you’re right, anyway,” Daraya said softly. “I think that this is what’s for the best.”

That made Elwurd smile — she finally turned and looked at Daraya, and there were tears glittering faintly in her eyes. “Thanks, Dar. I… I appreciate that. No hard feelings, right? We had fun?”

“Yeah.” She smiled back and nodded. And it was true — it _had_ been fun. And even though it stung a bit, this was better. _Don’t be fucking greedy — you’ve got two matesprits that care about you now._ “El…”

Daraya smiled.

“I’m happy for you. Really. You and Chixie.”

She watched as Elwurd’s face lit up a bit more and she nodded. Finally, Elwurd reached out, patted her once on the shoulder, and then walked away.

Daraya stood there watching her leave… and she smiled.


	32. Sins of Past Lives

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 2311 local time (1411 AUT)

Bronya had just fallen asleep when the pounding on her woke her up. She was now struggling out from not one but _two_ separate sets of arms, legs, and bodies. It felt good, and there was something comforting about having Lynera and Daraya there, but they were going to need to figure something out — most likely a bigger pool of sopor to sleep in.

The pounding on the door set her blood pusher racing — every time that someone urgently needed her attention, it always seemed to portend some kind of disaster. She stepped out onto the floor, still-naked, and went over to put on her pajamas.

“What’s going on?” Daraya’s voice was sleepy. “Who’s at the door?”

Bronya shook her head — “I don’t know.” As Daraya watched, she finished pulling the pajama top on and buttoning it up. The knocking at the door sounded again, and Bronya scowled.

“I’m coming! 1 — it is rude to knock so loudly, and 2 — I have already been fully woken up and am in the process of getting dressed!”

When she opened the door, she saw Polypa standing there, scowling. She looked past Daraya and into the room. “Daraya in there?” Seeing Bronya’s nod, Polypa frowned. “She’ll need to come too. Actually… all three of you.”

“Three of us? But I never told you—” She cut herself off when she saw Polypa’s smile.

“Bronya, I don’t have time for you to underestimate my ability to observe obvious facts right now.” She squinted. “Stelsa and Tyzias sent us something that you need to see.”

* * *

The attitude in the command center of the caverns was tense — Polypa had something pulled up on a computer and was pacing nervously back and forth when Bronya, Daraya, and Lynera all showed up a short while later. She looked relieved to see them and nodded to Cirava, who was sitting on a chair nearby. They got up and walked to the computer, sitting down behind it and tapping a few keys.

Polypa sighed and smiled at them. “Okay, good. Look, I don’t know how, but those two teals managed to get a burst packet out of Hivefield with a bunch of information attached to it, including a bunch more documents and some kind of decoding key for the stuff that we’ve already got. I had Cirava run everything through and they decoded the documents earlier.”

“Cool — what do you need us for?” Daraya asked with a yawn. “You know more about military bullshit and Cirava’s got the whole tech thing on lock, right?”

“Absolutely,” Polypa said. “But neither of us knows anything about the jade caverns.”

The three jade bloods all looked at each other with expressions of confusion. Deep inside, Bronya was starting to get a sinking feeling in her guts — the kind of feeling that told her that everything was about to get worse once more. She was almost afraid to ask what Polypa meant by it, but she had to know anyway.

“What is it?” Bronya asked quietly. Rather than simply answer, Polypa motioned for Bronya to come look at the computer. As soon as she saw what was on the screen, Bronya felt the bottom dropping out from under her stomach.

“I… recognize these.”

Polypa nodded. “I thought you might… but I don’t know what they are, so do you mind enlightening me?”

Nervously, Bronya nodded. “These are the cavern reports that’re submitted by each of the jade caverns. The Empire requires — required — that we submit these. They explain how many grubs were hatched, what blood colors they were, how many were culled… all kinds of information about the whole process.”

“Okay, good. Sit down and take a look through them. Have your… uh… matesprits take a look too.” She motioned to Daraya and Lynera, who both blushed and walked over slowly. Without another word, Bronya sat down in front of the computer and began to flip through the records.

She recognized most of the names of the caverns — some of them were unfamiliar or possibly labeled differently than how she knew them, but almost universally they were names she recognized. She kept flipping, page after page, until one name jumped out at her and stopped her in her tracks.

Her former cavern.

Bronya’s blood ran cold. _This isn’t a coincidence. There’s something that connects these._ She went back to the beginning of the reports and began to flip through again, but slower this time. After a few of them went by, it finally began to click in her mind. Behind her, she heard Lynera utter a soft “oh no” and she knew they’d gotten to the exact same conclusion. The connection was, looking through it, obvious… even if the meaning behind it was obscured.

“You wanna clue the rest of us in on why you’re all suddenly looking so worried?” Polypa didn’t sound annoyed — she sounded _afraid._

Bronya nodded. “I don’t know what it means yet, but there’s one thing all these caverns have in common — they all have unusually low cull rates. We’re required to keep track of how many grubs are hatched, how many are unviable, how many are stillborn, how many are born defective, and… how many are culled.” Bronya felt a little sick twist in her stomach.

Lynera leaned forward. “Bronya wasn’t killing the weak grubs anymore! She was trying to help them survive!”

Polyps nodded slowly — even as a non-jade-blood the implications would be readily apparent. Bronya had been doing something that wasn’t technically in violation of the Empire… but it was perilously close.

Bronya sucked in a breath. “From the look of this… I wasn’t the only one. All of these caverns have rates that are far too low to be explained by anything else.”

“So what the fuck is it?” Daraya asked. “A list of caverns that’re sparing grubs? Why?”

Bronya shrugged and kept paging through the document, looking at the translation overlaid on top by the program Cirava had written. After pages and pages of the basic reports, Bronya reached a page labelled with a simple header.

**Executive Conclusions**

Having reviewed the reports from all the caverns that were identified as being potentially suitable for the project, we believed we’ve identified several key possibilities (attached as exhibits A-H per SOP). Each of these contains the necessary combination of factors:

1 - A low cull-rate indicative that the matriarch (or some other influential party) has been sparing semi-viable grubs.   
2 - Geographic isolation, facilitating ease of access via transport and minimizing potential for observation by third parties.   
3 - Generally neutral-to-positive scores on the standard Imperial Loyalty Assessment Battery Test.   
4 - Majority-blowblood grub/wiggler output.   
5 - A mother grub that fits one of the attached genetic profiles, with the potential to produce the requisite protein sub-sequences detailed in the attached research document (see “Use of Terminal Instars in Enhanced Applications”).

It is the recommendation of this field division that Intelligence Central coordinate with the Alternian Division of Imperial Science to facilitate specimen retrieval as soon as possible. In particular, we would require no less than twenty grubs of viable status, ten semi-viable preserved grubs (although the number can be as little as five if safe collection and delivery proves difficult), and the intact mother grub and any grubspawn that the cavern happens to have on-hand (they should all have at least one, per the reports).

Recommended that we field at least two full tactical teams, preferably with cerulean commandos. Our analysts understand that this would require increased coordination, but at this point this is a mission-critical project for Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty.

Personnel will not be required — we have our own jade bloods on the Pink Moon.

Once retrieval is complete, sanitize the site and neutralize any personnel present.

Bronya could feel the shiver running down her spin as she read through the memo. Suddenly, a sense of bitter realization crept into her and settled in. It wouldn’t have mattered how well she’d adhered to everything. Wouldn’t have mattered if she’d turned everyone away when they came seeking aid in the caverns. Wouldn’t have mattered if she did literally everything perfectly. _They were going to come for us anyway… no matter what._

She could feel the shaking starting.

“I don’t know what they wanted to achieve, but I can read a damn kill order,” Polypa muttered. “I know what the last page means… they were gonna raid your cavern. And they weren’t gonna leave anyone left alive.”

She nodded, but she felt numb inside. She’d worked so hard to make sure that the hell of the Empire never touched the people that she cared about — to make sure that they could at least have some semblance of a good life until they inevitably had to answer the call of the Empire and head offworld for the next phase of their training and service to the Empire. She had, she thought, done an admirable job of meeting that goal. But now she realized that it would’ve never mattered.

A hand on her shoulder — not Daraya nor Lynera, but Polypa. Polypa had a serious look on her face, and Bronya felt like Polypa knew exactly what she was thinking.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. You did everything you could to make life better for them, and you didn’t even know what the Empire was planning. You can’t take into account information you simply don’t have.”

She nodded again, but she wasn’t convinced. The tears were streaking her cheeks, and she felt like curling up in her recupercoon for a while and simply falling asleep. At least if she were asleep, she wouldn’t have to think about this anymore. But if she were asleep, she’d be ignoring this… and this didn’t feel like it was over yet.

“Do we know what happened to the other caverns?” Lynera asked in a soft voice. “Did they… were they okay?”

Polypa turned to look at Lynera, and the expression on her face looked so _sad_ — when she spoke, her voice was firm, but gentle. “No. I don’t think they were okay.”

“I just don’t understand,” Bronya said under her breath. “1 — why did they need these grubs? 2 — what were they planning with the mother grub? 3 — how does it tie in with everything else that we were sent?”

A thought grabbed her, and it wouldn’t let her go. Something she vaguely remembered from her time in training to be a matriarch. Something about the grubs’ lifecycle. Without saying another word, Bronya got up and bolted to her chambers, leaving the others behind staring in confusion.

* * *

She found the book she was looking for on the shelf — one of the few books that she’d taken with her when they fled the old caverns. It was a large, thick tome that was worn with age and frequent use. This copy hadn’t even originally belonged to her, instead being passed down by the previous matriarch before she’d finally had to go offworld. She had a good idea of where to look — a section of the book she hadn’t had much occasion to review — the section titled “On Mutation.”

Skimming down the passages, looking over the simple illustrations, didn’t take her long to find it.

Appendix D: Mutations of the Post-Grub Form

Section 1: The Terminal Instar

Representing an extremely rare and abnormal step in Alternian development, the terminal instar is the result of especially unusual conditions of development. In particular, it is thought that if certain mutations are not culled out of the brood prior to the first molt, then the result is guaranteed to be a terminal instar. This has not been categorically proven by the Alternian College of Science, but it is strongly inferred from field observations.

In any case, the terminal instar will always come after the first molt. It is a strange being — resembling in many ways a grub, but with rudimentary limbs not dissimilar to those of a wiggler. Their brain is more developed than that of the grub, but they seem to lack many of the facilities of the wiggler. They can be trained to perform simple tasks, and even demonstrate some vestigial intelligence, but our scientists insist that any indications of anything even remotely resembling personhood are purely coincidental.

Certain members of the scientific community have, at various points, suggested that the terminal instar would, if given time, proceed to a normal second molt and emerge as wigglers that are just as viable as any who undergo only their first molt. It is important to note that this conclusion is _not_ endorsed by the Alternian College of Science, and anyone found to be supporting such heretical notions is subject to immediate summary culling.

Of academic interest is the fact that terminal instars show a certain degree of bioelectric connectivity, regardless of blood caste, similar to that displayed by the psyionics. This is a purely academic question, of course, as standard cavern procedure requires culling all grubs who might fit the mutations that develop into terminal instars, and the required conditions on the mother grubs are extremely rare outside of laboratory settings.

Bronya slammed the book shut — she felt dizzy. Stumbling over to the desk, she sat down heavily in the chair and stared straight ahead. Outside, in the hallway, she could hear the rushing of feet as Polypa, Daraya, and Lynera all rushed to catch up to her. She could hear Lynera’s voice — “Her door is open — she’s got to be in there.”

They crossed the threshold right as Bronya buried her head in her hands and began to sob. She couldn’t stop herself — couldn’t stop the tide of emotions as they ran out of her. Every cycle for sweeps she’d supported the same system. The same people who would declare that certain grubs deserved to live and others to die based on what the Empire needed and nothing more.

She was too smart not to start to put the pieces together. The vague statements and references to documents that she didn’t have — she’d never know the specific technical details, but it didn’t matter. Sometimes, all it took was a few key words in the right places.

“I think I know what they’re doing…” she muttered, mostly to herself. Polypa stepped closer and leaned in. Bronya looked up at her, tears still flowing, and shook her head. “I don’t know… I… I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you _think_ they’re doing? That’s better than nothing, damn it!” Polypa was definitely trying not to sound angry, but she was obviously frustrated. “I know you’re upset but this is fucking serious. God knows what those two teals went through to get this information out to us.”

Bronya swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes — she took a breath to try to clear her head. “I think that they’re going to try to induce a rare mutation… to make something halfway between a grub and a wiggler.”

She stopped, because the next part was horrible — the part she didn’t want to believe, but what she’d been reading kept hinting at it in a way that was too much to simply ignore. She swallowed again.

“I think they’re going to try to… to try to put them into a drone.”

Polypa actually laughed. “What the fuck, Bronya? Why the fuck would they do—” She stopped laughing as soon as she looked at Bronya’s face.

“I don’t know why! I don’t know how to explain it! I don’t know anything but I know what it feels like and I can’t explain how seriously we need to take this!” Bronya’s chest heaved as she yelled — as she fought against the anxiety that was building up inside. “They’re already doing this — they already got their specimens a half-sweep ago and while we’ve been running around trying to pick at the Empire, they’re up there on the Pink Moon doing something… something _evil._ ”

Polypa nodded… and this time, she didn’t say anything.


	33. Signal Boost

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 0916 AUT 

The walk to the hall of records took a bit longer than expected, mostly due to having to make sure that the ship was actually secure. Amisia walked along as if she had absolutely no fear — probably a feeling bolstered by the presence of Remele, the cerulean commando in her full enhanced suit of armor, carrying a boarding carbine. Mallek tagged along, watched Amisia’s self-satisfied way of walking with an increasing sense of unease.

Halfway to the hall of records, he finally just asked what was on his mind — “What are you going to do about the Empire?”

She turned to quirk an eyebrow at him, confused. “What do you mean? We’re handling the Empire right now.”

“Right, okay…” he paused. “But… what are you going to do when the Empress decides to task a Fleet destroyer to take us out?”

She laughed. “Don’t be silly. Do you know why I picked this ship? I mean, besides the large number of personnel I was able to win over to our cause. It’s the planetary flagship for a reason — probably was destined to be the Empress’ personal ship if she ever decided to get her ass off the Pink Moon. Absolute top-notch weapons and defenses…”

Mallek threw up his hands and looked from Amisia’s smiling face to the face of the impassive cerulean commando. “Okay, but what if they just task more Fleet ships to come in? You do realize they have more.”

“Simple — planetary defenses.” Amisia rolled her eyes like Mallek was an especially slow-to-learn wiggler she was trying to explain something simple to. “Easy as that.”

“What planetary defenses?! Alternia doesn’t _have_ any!” He couldn’t believe that he was having to explain this to anyone, much less a highblood who was theoretically keyed into all of this information. Amisia laughed at him and shook her head — now he was confused.

“Not _Alternia_ — oh, Empress that’s adorable. No no no… we’re going to be using the systems on the Pink Moon.”

“How?!” Mallek yelled out… but Amisia just wagged a finger at him.

“Now, now… I’m not going to spoil _all_ of the fun for you. Just tag along for the ride. We’ve got some research to do!”

* * *

The hall of records was empty when they arrived — probably unsurprisingly. Amisia nodded over to Remele, who took a step forward. Amisia raised her voice and called into the hall.

“Initiate Gorjek! I know you’re in here… we have full access to the ship’s duty logs. Now you can either come out and talk peacefully, or I’ll have Command Sergeant Namaaq here come in and retrieve you. I can’t promise she won’t break anything either.”

She waited, patiently drumming her fingers on the desk at the front of the hall, until finally they heard a nasal voice from within.

“Fine! I’m coming out! You… promise not to hurt me?”

“Of course,” Amisia waved a hand at Remele, who lowered the carbine she’d been about to aim. “We aren’t the Empire… we’re not like that.” She nodded, and a look crossed between the two of them that Mallek couldn’t quite figure out, but the implication seemed clear — they weren’t like that… unless they had to be. There was no going back, and that was the only reason that Mallek was even still here. What was he going to do — hop in a transport and fly back to Alternia?

From around the edge of a large bank of filing cabinets, a lanky troll with outsized horns and a nervous smile appeared. Mallek didn’t think he’d ever met the troll before, although something about him was vaguely familiar in a distant way — for some reason, a specific jingle kept running through his mind.

“Ah, here we go!” Amisia clapped her hands. “Tagora Gorjek! Demoted to Initiate and forced to act as Librarian — poetic. I think? Maybe not… you were always more about talking than legal documents, to be honest, right?”

“Who… are you?” Tagora asked cautiously, his eyes darting quickly over to Remele every few seconds. “And who’s your well-equipped friend here?” He grinned nervously. “She looks… intimidating.”

Amisia smiled all the way to her eyes. “Oh, she’s just here for security. And to break your arm if you lie to me.”

Tagora laughed nervously. “Well… it’s a good thing that lying isn’t something I have any interest in doing right now.”

“Good!” Amisia trilled, walking over to lean on the desk. “Then you can start by finding any reference in the files to Operation Watchword.”

“What?” Tagora said softly. “I don’t…”

“Oh please,” Amisia clicked her tongue against her teeth. “What kind of Librarian are you?”

Remele interrupted — “Ma’am, I don’t think he’s actually a Librarian.” But Amisia shot her a glance that said all she needed to know and she nodded, stepped back, and turned to face away.

“I’ll be more specific. The contacts I’ve got uncovered information that suggested that the Empress was enhancing the Pink Moon’s defensive perimeter. I want you to tell me anything about that.”

In spite of the tension — in spite of the fact that the ship had just been taken over by yet another revolutionary movement — in spite of the cerulean commando with a rifle standing right there… Tagora laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! You do realize that this ship was basically gutted a half-sweep ago after a major rebel incursion and strike on board it, right? Documents went missing — people went missing. To think that this would be somewhere that the Empire would still store sensitive data?” He laughed again. “I’m sorry… you must be new at this. Or delusional.”

Before anyone could react, Remele took two bounding steps over and punched Tagora across the face. He grunted and went down, barely managing to hold onto the desk for support and slumping down.

“Treat the Commander with some respect, Initiate!” Remele barked. Amisia walked up and softly put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

“It’s fine.” She reached out to Tagora to help him up, but he ignored her hand and pulled himself up using the desk instead. Mallek stared wide-eyed as this all happened, feeling like someone watching a particularly dramatic video-show — the kind of show that anyone with a sense for fiction would criticize as being unrealistic.

Tagora’s sly smile was creeping back onto his face. “Well, you can beat me all you want but it doesn’t change reality. All we have here now is personnel records and requisition forms and such. Documents related to the Iustitia’s function as a carrier, not to the grand scheme of the Empire. I would imagine that most of that stuff is being held on the Green Moon… maybe even on the Pink Moon.”

He stopped speaking, and opened his mouth and clapped a hand over it in a mocking gesture of surprise. “Oh, but _wait a minute —_ if you fly an approach to either of those, you’ll get blasted out of the sky by an anti-ship railgun. Or… you think you will. Whether or not it’s accurate is pretty much incidental to the fact that you’re not going to risk it. You don’t seem like the type to have a death-wish.” He glared at Amisia. “So which stupid fucking revolution are _you_ a part of?”

Amisia looked him dead in the eyes, and when she spoke her voice was even. “You know, Galekh talked about you.”

Tagora’s eyes grew wide and, for once, he didn’t say anything. Mallek had only heard Galekh mention Tagora’s name in the passing sense of being kismeses, but maybe there was something else there… something he’d only shared with his inner circle.

“Oh? Did you not realize? Did you think we were the _other_ group of high blood committed to fixing this rotten system?” She shook her head slowly, sadly. “You know what he said about you? That he didn’t really think you’d ever be on board with what we were doing. That he didn’t bring you in because he didn’t think you’d _understand._ ”

Tagora glared at her. “What is this? Some attempt to make me feel bad? I’ve got news for you — I already feel bad basically all the time. Whether it’s because of you or the Empire, I don’t really care.”

“Wonderful!” Amisia beamed. “Then you won’t mind if I ask Remele here to vent your skull with her gun!” Remele turned back around and raised her carbine.

Immediately, Tagora’s bluster vanished. He backed up and raised both hands. “Now… let’s not be _too_ hasty. I’m sure that there’s a reason that Galekh trusted you — even if it might be closed to my understanding perhaps indefinitely.”

Amisia’s smile stayed on as she walked up to Tagora and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you try to talk to me like that again — any of that — I’ll make sure to tell Remele to take out your knees first.” She patted his shoulder quickly and took a step back. Tagora stood there, staring. “But don’t worry — there’s another way you can help out.”

“I… live only to serve, Commander,” Tagora said. More than anything, he sounded broken now. “How can I help?”

Mallek watched as Amisia’s face lit up. “Good! You see… there’s a lot of things I’d like to know, and not having those files is a disadvantage… but also, I need to know a few other things. Just little procedural details, you know?”

Tagora nodded — and his voice sounded defeated. “Sure… what do you want to know about? The details shift rotations on the Iustitia? How bad the food in the mess hall is? Whether or not I’ve found a new kismesis?”

“Do you keep the communications trace logs?” Amisia asked. Mallek squinted at her — it wasn’t something that anyone was usually interested in outside of very specific technical support applications.

“What? The… oh… yeah, I guess. Sure. But those are… they’re useless. It just tells you which people contacted which other people.”

“But you keep them, right.” Amisia leaned forward, her eyes alight. “You can get them for me?”

“Sure.” Tagora shrugged and walked around to the other side of the desk. He switched on a computer behind the desk and began typing. “That’s easy. What do you want?”

“Bridge communications.”

Tagora shrugged and tapped a few buttons. Finally, he pulled out a small memory stick and handed it to Amisia. “Here — all the bridge communications traces for the last week. Have fun with it, I suppose.”

“Why thank you,” Amisia said. “Maybe Galekh was wrong about you being an ignorant fool who stood in the way of our progress.”

Tagora stammered — “Wait, I thought you said—”

But Amisia was already walking out, and Mallek turned quickly to follow her.

* * *

“What was that about?!” Mallek asked once they were out of hearing range. “He’s not some Empire stooge — he’s basically a Librarian with none of the perks and they technically let him leave the hall of records. I’ll bet he’d be culled the second he stepped out of line.

“That’s none of my concern,” Amisia said bluntly. “My concern is figuring out how to get inside of the defense perimeter of the Pink Moon.”

“And some comm traces will help _how?!_ Tagora might not know what those are, but _I_ sure as shit do. The most you can grab of them is the handshake ident codes. Which is fantastic if you’re troubleshooting comms issues, but a lot less useful when you’re trying to do — oh shit, I dunno — _literally anything else!_ ”

“You’re too cynical,” Amisia said brightly. “As if I haven’t already thought of this. As if I just decided to assault the largest ship in Alternian orbit without even the vague semblance of a plan.”

“Fine, so what’s your big fucking plan?” Mallek could hear the exhausted frustration in his voice.

“Oh no, that’s no fun.” He hated how _cheerful_ Amisia sounded about all of this. She was still not much more than a wiggler — still at least a sweep away from when she would’ve even had to face the possibility of Ascension. But something had gotten up under her skin, and she would burn the entire world to scratch at it.

“Okay, so you won’t tell me. What’re we doing next?”

“Why, we’re going to grab someone who’s going to help us — even if he doesn’t know it yet — and then we’re going to go have a nice chat with our friend Ardata.”

She smiled. She kept smiling. And, honestly… Mallek wished she wouldn’t.


	34. Locked Room Problem

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1123 AUT

Ardata had spent the better part of the last two hours trying to find some way to at least get into the ship’s administrative reporting systems — at least to have some vague idea of what was happening outside. At every turn, the systems were closed off to her, and she’d become increasingly furious that any of this was happening.

The smell had at least gone down a bit — the disgusting, overcooked meat smell of what had once been her helmsman. She couldn’t even remember his name… her name? Their name? She couldn’t remember anything about them other than that they’d been fully bonded with the ship in a way that meant they weren’t ever going to be living a normal life again. It was impossible for Ardata to imagine how it would feel to be doped up like that — plugged into the ship in a way where everything just became an extension of who you were. But it was never really _you_ because everyone else got to tell you what to do. You never had control.

That part, maybe, Ardata was finding she could empathize with. She’d become accustomed to control in her life — to the feeling that others were something that she could bend to her will if needed. Even before she’d joined the Fleet, back when she was still toying with the lowbloods for whatever attention she could get on GrubTube.

The Fleet had just been the next logical step. She’d had to pay a price, of course — the loss of her lusus seemed like a fair enough trade for what the Fleet promised her. A chance to stand in a position of real power — to wield the weaponry of a starship and its crew. A chance to truly know what it was to be in control.

And then she’d stood there, unable to do anything, and allowed a half million lives to be snuffed out by the ship that she was in command of. She’d tried to tell herself that she was okay with it — that it was just how things _were_ in the Alternian Empire. She hadn’t really had a choice, because if she’d refused then she would’ve been killed on the spot and someone else would’ve done it. The orders were a mere formality — the High Imperator’s will had been absolute.

But then the High Imperator was dead, and she kept seeing the shadowed city and its silent, blank-faced denizens when she slept.

Nothing chased it away. She’d tried… tried lovers and alcohol and every form of chemical addiction she could get her hands on. All of it in the service of trying to maintain that illusory sense of control… a control that she’d never really had in the first place.

With a scream of frustration, Ardata slammed her fist down onto the dead command console. Of course, it didn’t do anything. The console was deactivated, and it was rugged enough that the force of the blow didn’t even scratch it.

Turning away from the console and the dimmed screen in front of it, Ardata looked around the bridge. Her eyes finally settled on the body of the traitorous teal blood Sub-Commander that she’d had to put down. _Put down_ like she was a barkbeast who’d developed a taste for blood and needed to be culled.

“Serves you fucking right,” Ardata said to the teal’s body. She felt at least the satisfaction that she’d been able to resist that one, small part of their plan. They weren’t going to be able to get inside the bridge, and so it would remain her domain.

It hadn’t escaped her that they might just decide to stop the flow of oxygen to the bridge and suffocate her, but so far they hadn’t. She wasn’t entirely sure _why,_ but she was going to take every second they gave her to try to defy them, regardless of how futile it might be.

By the door, the sound of the intercom crackling to life echoed against the low thrum of the bridge’s command systems and the now-familiar voice of Amisia Erdehn could be heard.

“Commander Carmia? Ardata… are you still there?”

She walked over the intercom and punched the button to activate it. “Of course I’m still fucking here.”

“Okay good,” the voice sounded oddly _relieved._ “I was worried that maybe you decided to kill yourself.” Something about the blunt way that she put it was chilling.

“Not a fucking chance. Not while you’re all still out there.” Ardata snarled into the intercom and balled her fists. “You’re never getting in here!”

From the other end, Amisia laughed. “Oh… we don’t need to. We’ve already shifted control to the emergency bridge. It’s fine. Maybe not as spacious or dramatic, but it does what we need it to.”

Ardata felt something seep out of her — the flippant way that Amisia had responded only seemed to underscore how completely and utterly she’d had this taken away from her. How she’d been plotted against and betrayed. Ardata knew that she could be ruthless and demanding, but she had always striven to be _fair_ as a commander. She held her crew to high standards because they were her crew — chosen for an important task and devoted to the protection and preservation of their Alternian way of life. To the service of the Empress and the Empire.

“What do you want, then? If you don’t need me, why talk to me? Why bother?”

For a moment, Amisia didn’t answer… and when she did, there was a thoughtful undertone to her voice. “You know… that’s a really good question. We’ve taken over your ship. Any of your crew that I don’t think I can trust are dead. So what more do I need you for?” She paused — waited — as if she was giving the question time to rattle around inside Ardata’s head. “I suppose I see the potential in you. I know you killed your Sub-Commander and I will say that’s unfortunate… but also understandable. You know this ship and you know your crew… well, the surviving ones. Kind of… you didn’t know they were a part of our movement, but that’s a minor detail.”

The way she finished her sentence seemed to suggest a shrug, even over the intercom.

“You want me to join you?” Ardata glared, even with no one able to see it.

“Why not? I know you weren’t happy with how the High Imperator ran things. And is it _that_ different under the Empress? Do you honestly believe all that Imperial bullshit they fill your mind with?”

It flashed in front of her mind — the document that the Empress had showed her… the Homeworld Initiative. All the questions that had run through her mind about what it was and what it all meant. She grit her teeth and slammed a hand up against the bulkhead.

“Fuck you! It doesn’t matter what I believe because you stole my ship from me! You killed my crew!”

From the intercom, a soft chiding noise — “Oh, it’s only okay when _you_ do the killing, right? It has to be _personal?_ ”

“ _Fuck you!_ My crew respected me!”

“No,” Amisia said quietly. “Your crew betrayed you in service of a higher cause. Not to say that they hate you… as a matter of fact…”

There was the sound of footsteps through the intercom, and when it crackled to life again she recognized the sound of Azdaja’s voice on the other side.

“Fleet Commander? They… uh… they asked me to speak to you. They’ve got a gun to me right now, but I still think it’s a good idea to talk.” He sighed loudly enough to be picked up by the microphone. “They want your help getting past the Pink Moon’s defensive perimeter. The Fleet doesn’t know the Iustitia has been taken over yet and they need to get close enough that the railguns won’t be able to target us.”

“Why should I help them?” Ardata shot back. “To go the Pink Moon and, what, kill the Empress? Why the fuck would I want to do that.” _Because she’s doing something on the moon… something you know is going to change everything._ “I’m the commander of all the Fleet forces in orbit around Alternia. The Empress entrusted me with that.”

Azdaja laughed dryly, the noise crackling through the speaker. “Really? How well’s that working out? How well did that work out for the people before you? For the High Imperator? None of us really chose this — we just ended up here and now we’re trapped in the middle of it.”

The thing she hated the most was that he was right. The Empire was a monstrous entity that craved the blood and the bodies of its subjects. It asked that they sacrifice everything for the Empress’ conquest, and give nothing in return. Ardata turned and walked away from the intercom, ignoring Azdaja and trying to focus her own thoughts.

What did the Empress really want?

What did these so-called “revolutionaries” want?

Ardata was realizing more and more that it was basically the same thing — the same thing that had driven her for so long. The same need for power and influence.

She was realizing more and more that she didn’t care. The High Imperator had been a monster, but she could see that same drive inside her to keep order. To maintain control. The revolutionaries threatened that… but so did the Empress and whatever her plan entailed. There was a balance to be maintained — a healthy middle ground of order without overbearing the population and causing them to rise up.

Despite the Empress’ condescension, Ardata had _also_ studied Petrus while she was in the Fleet War College. But her take away was far different — she thought that Petrus had lost his way long ago, and the Empress saw things in a different, but related, extreme. These “revolutionaries” just wanted to shift the power to themselves — Ardata had seen their kind plenty in the past… the highbloods who played their political games with no regard for what would keep the people placated.

She didn’t know the best way forward, but she knew one thing for sure — for this brief moment, at least, their goals aligned. Beyond that, she would have to figure it out.

Ardata walked back over and spoke into the intercom. “Fine. You know what… _fine._ The Empress is planning something… maybe it’s time we sat down and had a talk.” She reached over and entered the code to disengage the blast doors.

As the doors slid up, Ardata began to consider her next move. The game had become far more complex than it had been before, with so many different pieces to consider. She put her hands above her head as the door finished opening, revealing that the outer door to the bridge had already been forced. Ardata smiled.

On the other side of the doorway, a short troll with thick, round glasses stood smiling back at her. Next to that troll was a cerulean commando pointing a boarding carbine at Ardata’s head.

“I assume you are Amisia Erdehn.”

The troll nodded. “That’s correct. Commander Amisia Erdehn of the Alternian Revolutionary Movement. And you’re saying you’re willing to join our ranks?”

Ardata shrugged. “Yes… that’s correct.”

“Excellent!” Amisia motioned to the cerulean commando, who took a step forward. “Command Sergeant, please confiscate any weapons on her person and escort her to her quarters. She is to be held under confinement until I have a chance to properly speak to her, face-to-face.”

Ardata glared, all three of her eyes locking on Amisia. “So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course not! You killed one of my soldiers and locked yourself in the bridge. It’ll take a lot more than your word to start to actually trust you.”

Ardata nodded — it wasn’t what she wanted, but it was about what she expected. Still… she could work with this. If nothing else, she was an expert at exerting control in subtle ways. Ways that didn’t require an army, or starships, or anything beyond the ability to speak to someone… properly. Face-to-face.

“Very well,” Ardata said solemnly. “I would be happy to speak with you at the earliest possible opportunity.”


	35. How They Got Out

12th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep… 

the City of Hivefield - 1854 local time (0954 AUT)

“There’s no way we can keep hanging around here, Zizi.” Stelsa sat by the window to the hiveblock and tapped her foot nervously, constantly looking back and forth out the window as if she’d suddenly be able to see more than the little slice of city street that was always there. An hour — it had taken an hour to get back to the hiveblock with the information Boldir gave them, then another hour and change of sitting around and scanning the documents with their palmhusks. Even without the ability to send anything out of the city, it would be useful to at least have backups of the data… not to mention that they could send it back to the caverns as soon as they were clear of the jamming around the city.

Tyzias stopped shuffling through papers and sighed. “I know that, Stels… I know. Not like we have a whole lot of choice right now though. City’s swarming with Army and what are we gonna do? Even if we go out the way we came in, it’s a long fucking walk back to the caverns and it’ll be light soon. Even with the traveling cloaks, that’s not something either of us wants to be doing.”

“I just wish there was something more we could do — I feel like the answer’s so _close_ and we’re only missing one piece of context to put it all together. Zizi, you know how much I hate unfinished puzzles!”

“You did have that one crossword that you got stuck on for days,” Tyzias muttered under her breath, with a slow smile. “It drove you nuts.”

“It had a typo in it! There wasn’t even an answer!” She huffed and crossed her arms. “It was insidious.”

“Yeah… but you never gave up, did you? One of the reasons I love you.” Tyzias shrugged and went back to scanning documents while Stelsa found herself blushing and shuffling her feet. She didn’t know why Tyzias saying those kinds of things still caught her off guard, but she didn’t want to feel any differently about it either.

For a moment, Stelsa stood and stared out the window, transfixed by nothing. She lifted her hand and tapped it slowly along the windowsill, humming softly to herself. She needed to think — needed to understand the situation properly.

Tyzias was smiling. “This is the part where you’re gonna say something about getting this over to Bronya and Polypa, isn’t it?”

“I’m thinking,” Stelsa replied. “We just need to get far enough out of the city to send this, then we can just go back here and wait it out. The city’s under lockdown, but people have to get by somehow… as long as no one knows who we are, we’ll be able to manage.”

“Hmm…” Tyzias made the face that she always made when she was seriously considering something, and Stelsa watched her closely. She wasn’t entirely sure of the plan herself, but she didn’t see a better way around it. The information they had needed to get to the rest of the NADF, and there wasn’t another way to do it, realistically speaking. Tyzias’ face twisted and she frowned, then finally nodded. “Okay. Okay, we need to finish scanning this shit, then we’ll backtrack to the drain system and get far enough out to send the packet. Sound good, Stels?”

It did sound good. Or, if not good, as good as it was possibly going to get. The longer they stuck around waiting for something to happen, the more likely that something outside their control would fuck things up for everyone. Even beyond the larger question of the revolution they were working to help build, the simple survival of everyone in the caverns could depend on decoding the information they were given.

“Okay, Zizi. We’ll go as soon as we’re done… before it gets too light out.”

* * *

The blaze of the Alternian sun was starting to poke over the horizon by the time they left the hiveblock, so both Tyzias and Stelsa wore heavy traveling cloaks just in case they got stuck outside at daybreak. They were also both armed — Stelsa had _insisted_ that Tyzias take the small service pistol with her just in case something bad happened. Despite her grumbling, Tyzias had eventually agreed and slipped the pistol into a small holster in her waistband.

Neither of them liked the situation — they were trying desperately to avoid another run-in with the soldiers — but neither of them was under any illusion that they had a real choice. Whatever was happening was, as always, critically important to _someone_ and they’d made the decision that their job as operatives of the newly-formed Intelligence branch of the New Alternian Defense Force was an important one.

They had to detour several times coming from their hiveblock back toward the hatch that led into the drainage and sewer system — the soldiers had been repositioned and reinforced at certain key points after whatever had been happening earlier. As they were forced more and more to deviate from the most direct route, the sun gradually rose over the horizon until they were walking in the dawn light. Still not hot enough to technically require a traveling cloak, but they put theirs on anyway. The added bonus of concealment wasn’t lost on them either.

“I’m not a fan of this,” Tyzias muttered under her breath as they walked down a side alley to avoid yet another emplacement of soldiers. “I know we don’t have a lot of options but… this all feels pretty fucking wrong.”

Stelsa reached out and slid her hand under the cloak, squeezing her matesprit’s hand softly. She didn’t say anything, but it didn’t matter… she could feel Tyzias relax anyway.

“Thanks, Stels. We’ll… I’m probably just being paranoid. We’ll get through this.” She shifted the cloak. “We’re good.”

They walked out of the alley, took a turn onto the main road and…

_Oh shit we’re not good._

Standing there, wearing their own cloaks that billowed out around heavy body armor, were three Alternian soldiers, all holding rifles. Stelsa felt her stomach drop and she froze in place — she didn’t dare reach back to the pistol held in the small of her back. Didn’t dare to even twitch. The soldiers had already seen her — she slowly raised her hands above her head.

“Don’t move,” she hissed at Tyzias. She knew that she didn’t have to say anything, but it helped her to feel some small measure of control over her situation. “We’ll be okay…” _You’ve got no way of knowing that._

The soldiers walked forward, rifles up, their cloaks shadowing their faces. Stelsa didn’t move. Tyzias didn’t move.

“Who the hell are you?!” The second figure in the trio was shouting, waving a rifle. Behind the cloak, Stelsa could see a sweeping pair of horns and a pair of thick, shaded tactical goggles. “Down on your knees!”

Stelsa didn’t argue — she dropped to her knees. The pistol was digging into her back, tantalizingly close by… but the second she reached for it she’d be cut down along with Tyzias. _I can’t do that to her. I can’t do this to Zizi._

Something was wrong — the leader of the group had their rifle down. The third one in the group looked like they barely wanted anything to do with this.

“Why the fuck are we bothering with these bulge-munchers?” they said, their voice grating. “Let’s just get done with this fucking patrol and go back. It’s hot as fuck out here.”

“Wait a minute, Specialist Maxlol,” the first one said — the leader?

The Specialist groaned. “What is it, Sarge?” Definitely the leader then.

“Marsti, lower your weapon!” Their Sergeant waved their hand.

“Ma’am?”

“I said lower your fucking weapon!” The leader walked over and swatted the rifle the second one — Marsti — was holding. The Sergeant stepped forward, looming huge over them with their armor and cloak.

“I know you.” The voice was low… even… and somehow familiar. Stelsa looked into the shadows of the cloak and saw a fierce, intense face. A face she remembered briefly from a half-sweep ago. Someone who had last been sitting on the floor in the corridor of the Iustitia mourning the loss of someone she had loved.

“Specialist Okimaw…” Stelsa muttered. “I remember you.”

“Sergeant now, but… Konyyl. Just Konyyl.”

“Konyyl, what the fuck is this?! Who are these two?” Marsti asked, her rifle hovering at the low ready. “You know them?”

Konyyl walked over to Marsti and put a hand firmly on her shoulder. “From another life… from another time.” Stelsa couldn’t see the look that passed between them, but she could see Marsti’s hold on the rifle slacken as she lowered the weapon to her side. Konyyl turned back to Stelsa and Tyzias. “Come on, get up.”

Pushing herself to her feet, Stelsa kept looking between the three soldiers. Konyyl, Marsti, and…

The realization dawned as the name crawled its way out of the depths of her memory. Back to a time a half-sweep ago when she and Tyzias were standing on a blasted plain of charred mud and wondering what the fuck they were supposed to even be doing. A world that felt like a whole lifetime ago. Stelsa shook her head and her mouth hung open.

“Marsti… you were the recruit that was at the Southern Training Command when it was bombed.” Stelsa saw her posture change. “We were the ones who were sent to investigate.”

“Sarge!” The third one — Maxlol — shouted. “These two are wanted! The Empire’s got kill orders out on both of them.”

Konyyl turned, and suddenly Stelsa was afraid for his life. She stepped in and growed, lifting a hand out of the cover of the cloak. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Kuprum. Seems to me we’ve just found a couple of fellow soldiers of the great Alternian Empire. I don’t recall specific orders to target them… do you?”

The smaller troll backed off a step. “No, Sergeant, I don’t remember any orders like that. Must’ve gotten things mixed up.”

“You’re goddamn right you did,” Konyyl growled at him. She turned smoothly and looked down at Stelsa. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

Stelsa looked into the shadows of her hood and studied her eyes as best she could. There was something in there… something deep and full of pain. It was the look of someone who was worried they were about to lose everything that they loved for the second time. Stelsa felt her pusher jump in her chest as she leaned forward toward Konyyl.

“We have information to send to our friends,” Stelsa said evenly. “You let us go back then… why?”

Konyyl shrugged. “Because it was the right thing to do. Because it was the fucking _honorable_ thing to do.”

“Well, we need to get outside of the city where we can transmit. So we can do the right and honorable thing.”

“It won’t work,” Konyyl said quietly. “The entrances are all being sealed off completely and they’re reallocating forces to prioritize perimeter defense and isolation.”

“Why?” Tyzias’ voice came from behind her, shaking. “Why would they do that?”

Konyyl leaned over and peered around Tyzias. “Because they were asked to, and because that carries weight… even now.” The last part was utterly cryptic, but Stelsa didn’t know how to interpret it.

Stelsa sighed. “Still, we have to do this. There are lives at stake.”

For a while, it looked as if Konyyl was simply going to dismiss them outright. But something crossed her face, shadowed by the mask, and she glared. “You’re serious? This isn’t some fucked-up trick? You’re not gonna play some games like what happened on the Iustitia?”

“That wasn’t us and you know it,” Stelsa said evenly. “The Iustitia was our home. But all the same…” She stared directly at Konyyl. “You know as well as I do that the High Imperator had to die.”

Another moment of silence — Konyyl stared at her with her piercing, intense eyes. And then she nodded.

“Fine. Follow me — I’ve got an idea.”

“Sergeant, what the fuck?!” Kuprum yelled. Konyyl was on him in an instant, hauling him up by the cloak. “Specialist, these two will be treated with the utmost response on our current, off-the-books mission. You do not know who either of them are in an official capacity. You will proceed with the rest of us and follow my orders to the letter or I’ll have you culled for interfering with some unnamed teal blood officers. Is that clear?”

Konyyl leaned over, growling.


	36. Test Run

“Yes, Sergeant,” Kuprum said quickly. “Understood, sergeant.”

Konyyl looked back at Stelsa, then over at Tyzias. The last time she saw them, she had been sitting in a corridor of the Iustitia while the world was falling apart around her. While her world was falling apart around her.

I love yyou.

Now, it could all be happening again. She hadn’t heard anything more from Azdaja, and she wasn’t feeling like herself anymore. She felt lonely, disconnected… drifting. But seeing these two teals was snapping her back to reality — forcing her to confront something she wanted to ignore forever.

“Sergeant, seriously what the hell are we doing?” Kuprum asked hastily. “Where are we going with these two?”

“I thought you were clear that you weren’t supposed to be asking questions,” Konyyl snapped.

“Yes, Sergeant… but what are we actually _doing?_ We’re supposed to make another patrol sweep and then wrap it up and join the rest of the squad near the perimeter wall while we wait for relief. We’re gonna get left behind when the dropship comes!”

Konyyl frowned — he had a point, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. But something inside of her looked over the situation and told her _no._

“We’ll be fine, Specialist. We’re going to take these two up to one of the comm arrays and then escort them back to their safehouse. In and out… we won’t be more than a few minutes each way and then we can hang out with the rest until our ride back into orbit shows up.”

That seemed to be enough for Kuprum — he nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged and dropped back. Konyyl turned to the others.

“If no one else has anything stupid to say, let’s get going.”

The others shook their heads, so Konyyl turned back and began to lead them along. If she was going to help these two, then she was going to actually help them. It wasn’t like Command would ever find out, if she played it right.

* * *

Throughout the city, the Army had set up small communications arrays on top of some of the buildings that fed down to ground level. The purpose of the arrays was to allow the communications specialists to patch in and send updates back to command without running into issues with the jamming hardware that was set up. An added side benefit to that was that the communications arrays would allow anyone with Army comm gear to link anything up to the arrays and bypass the jamming — even a standard civilian palmhusk.

Their small group wound their way through the streets as the daylight grew hotter around them. Konyyl pulled her cloak up around her as she walked, shifting the auto-rifle on her shoulders. Behind her, Marsti cleared her throat and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Konyyl… are you okay?”

She grunted. It had been almost a cycle since she’d had any kind of proper sleep, and the whole exercise of taking the city had been completely pointless. She wanted to be able to say that there was an actual point to it, but the honest truth was she didn’t believe that. After the initial bombing and the incident on the roof, it had been quiet. Everything felt like it was moving onward… leaving them behind.

Up above, Konyyl’s eye caught the first glint of the dropships breaking atmosphere, burning in on their course down.

“Don’t worry about me, Marsti… let’s get moving. Dropships are already coming in hot.”

Marsti turned and squinted skyward, nodding. “Yeah… I can see that. Shit. How much time you figure we have?”

Konyyl shrugged. “Another ten minutes? Twenty? No idea how fast they’re coming in, but it’ll take them time to land. A half hour? Fuck it, we’re almost there.”

She nodded and patted Konyyl’s shoulder and dropped back — Konyyl slid over to Stelsa and spoke in a low voice. “We’re going to patch your comms into this and you’re going to send whatever you’ve got. In ten minutes I’m going to take my people and head out. We’ll stay with you if you’re quick enough, but I can’t make any promises.”

“Fine,” Stelsa replied sharply. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Keep in mind I could just shoot you. I know what you’re involved in,” Konyyl growled. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

“But you’re not going to do that, are you?” Stelsa asked. Konyyl knew that she was right — she wasn’t going to do it, because it wasn’t right. Because…

Because she’d cared about someone who felt the same way.

I love yyou.

“Fine.” She stopped walking and gestured to the side. “We’re here.”

Nearby, the comm array sat unguarded, attached to the side of the building. Without access to the right equipment, it wouldn’t be any use to anyone, so it wasn’t worth assigning someone to sit and grubsit the damn thing. Konyyl gestured to Kuprum, who walked over reluctantly.

“Specialist, get your shit set up.” She settled back against the wall of the building. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your shit together, Sarge.” Kuprum shrugged off his pack and plugged in the connectors. Up above, the dropships were still burning in hard, well on their way toward the city. It wouldn’t be long now… wouldn’t be long before their chance to leave was closed off. Konyyl knew they wouldn’t get another chance to leave — they’d be listed as missing-in-action and that would be the end of it.

“Okay, done,” Kuprum said. “Make it fucking quick cause I don’t wanna fucking miss the boat.”

Konyyl waved to Stelsa. “Plug in your palmhusk and send what you need to send — you’ve got maybe five minutes.”

Sitting back against the wall, Konyyl watched the skies as the dropships started to slow down, engaging their braking thrusters. They were taking so much longer to close the distance than Konyyl expected, still small against the sky, but moving so fast.

_Something’s wrong._

“Hurry the fuck up,” Konyyl called to the teal blood as she was rushing to send the data on her palmhusk. “We’re leaving in two minutes.”

She nodded, her cloak rustling. “Got it — I’m almost done.”

Those small dots of the dropships were speeding up, but they weren’t growing larger the way they should. Konyyl squinted — were they trying to tack in at an angle? It wasn’t unheard of for the dropships to fly an evasion pattern to avoid anti-ship fire, but there _wasn’t_ any anti-ship fire coming out of the city. It was a civilian target, undefended…

The dots were too small.

Konyyl felt something sinking inside of her. “We need to get out of the open.”

“Just one minute,” Stelsa said, tapping nervously at the palmhusk. “I’ve just got one more thing to send.”

“Cut it the fuck out and let’s go. We can’t be out here anymore.” _Those aren’t dropships…_ “Those are fucking drones.”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” Tyzias shouted from over by where Stelsa was hunched over the palmhusk. “They know we’re here?! The fuck — you sold us out!”

Konyyl growled at her. “No I fucking didn’t. This isn’t a kill mission — there’s dozens of them!” She glanced up at the sky again, at the dark shapes that were just now starting to rapidly grow in her field of vision. One of them veered off sharply, then another. They began to lose altitude, streaking off low over the city.

In the distance, there was a crash — the sound of something impacting buildings and smashing glass and concrete.

A minute later, the sound of heavy gunfire. Konyyl rushed over and grabbed Stelsa’s arm — “We’re leaving right the fuck now and if you don’t come with us, then you’re not fucking coming with us.” It sounded stupid the second it left her mouth, but she didn’t care anymore. More and more of the crashing sounds — the quick whipping of something overhead and a loud explosion as one of the drones landed nearby.

“Sergeant, what the fuck is happening?” Kuprum yelled. “Command never said anything about a drone strike? What the fuck?!”

_Because Command didn’t want us to know. Because Command is doing this to all of us._ “Specialist, I think we’re on our own now.”

“I’m done!” Stelsa called. “Everything’s sent — we have a hiveblock nearby we can go to.”

“No,” Konyyl said. “It’s not enough — we need to get underground. Into the service tunnels.” There was something deeply, intensely wrong here. Something monstrous happening. Konyyl didn’t know how she knew it, but the sense was there all around her. The noises of gunfire and explosions picked up — she swore she could hear screaming somewhere nearby.

“Everyone will be inside right now… they’re going door-to-door.” Konyyl narrowed her eyes and shifted the auto-rifle off her shoulder. “Let’s form up and fucking go.”

Louder and louder, the noises of the drones grew.

“Door-to-door doing _what?!_ ” Tyzias yelled, her voice hoarse. “What are they looking for?!”

_Anyone. They’re looking for anyone they can find._ “I don’t know, but we need to fucking move.”

* * *

Running quickly through the city, sticking mostly to the back alleys and the smaller side passages, Konyyl could hear the sounds of chaos rising up all around her. Gunfire. Explosions. And there were _definitely_ screams now. She still hadn’t seen any of the drones, but she could _hear_ them everywhere. The sounds of gunfire seemed to be back-and-forth and Konyyl realized something — _they’re attacking our own fucking people!_

Behind her, Kuprum had his headset on and was tuning in to the tactical channels. Panting as he ran, he shouted after her — “Sarge, we’ve got reports of drones firing on us! Squad’s not responding on the comms and no one on tactical knows what the fuck is happening!”

Konyyl glared ahead, steeling herself and clutching her auto-rifle close to her chest. The chitin armor she wore suddenly felt so insubstantial — barely proof at all against the heavy weaponry that the drones would be armed with. _Why the fuck are they attacking our own people?!_ She clutched her weapon close and she ran — pushing herself as they moved ever-closer to the access hatch that would lead them down into the underground tunnels. If they managed to get in unnoticed, maybe they would stand a chance — maybe they could wait out the mounting carnage above and slip out when night fell again.

They turned a blind corner, and all of her hopes evaporated.

Standing in front of them, twenty yards down the road, was a drone. A drone — but not one like Konyyl had ever seen before. Massive — twice as tall as the standard recruitment or combat models — with a matte-black carapace that seemed to suck all light into a void around it. The drone moved strangely — in a way that felt so oddly _organic_ and at-odds with the usual mechanical way that the drones behaved.

It was silent…

But Konyyl would’ve sworn that she could see it _breathing._

Without a moment’s hesitation, Konyyl raised her auto-rifle and fired a burst right at the thing’s head. The anti-personnel rounds pattered uselessly off the shell and it bent forward, raising its arms.

The sound was deafening — a crackling roar as the drone unleashed hell down upon them. The bullets whizzed and cracked around her as Konyyl scrambled to run back behind the cover of the wall they’d just left. She shoved Marsti back around it first, dived behind cover, and shouted at the two teals (who’d been trailing them the whole time) — “Stay the fuck back!”

Kuprum ran after her, struggling with the pack and the headphones that had gotten tangled in his gear.

“Fucking ditch it!” Konyyl screamed. “Get back here!”

The roar sounded again, and the entire side of Kuprum’s body disappeared. The heavy rounds — rounds intended to be used against a much heavier target than a gold-blood communications specialist, ripped right up along the side, tearing off chunks of flesh that blew out the side of the ragged cloak as it was torn to shreds.

As his entire body was torn to shreds.

There was nothing to be done — the body that had once been Kuprum fell to the ground with a wet sound.

“FUCK!” Konyyl screamed and leaned around the corner to see the drone advancing down the road toward the alley where they were taking cover. She pulled back before the drone could notice her again. The two teals were behind them, shaking as they hunched down next to the wall.

“Look, I’m gonna hold this thing off for as long as I can, and you’re both gonna run to the nearest underground access. I don’t care where it leads you — if it’s just a fucking sewage run — get the fuck off the streets! These things aren’t normal drones.”

The drone made a sound from around the corner — a strange whining, clicking, chittering sound that wasn’t the product of any machine that Konyyl had ever heard. _What the fuck is this thing?!_

“The fuck you are!” Marsti shouted, grabbing Konyyl by the cloak. “You’re not doing some fucking saviour thing. We’re all going.” Marsti reached into her own cloak and pulled the concussion grenades off her gear. “We’re all fucking going.”

She pulled the pin on the first grenade and threw it around the corner. Three seconds later, the grenade went off. Even concealed from the blast, the sound and pressure were overwhelming — Konyyl clapped her hands to her ears.

Marsti pulled a second grenade and tossed it, and this time Konyyl was ready for the blast. Taking her hands from her ears, she grabbed a pair of grenades from her own gear and prepped both of them to throw.

“Fine. I throw these, we go. Got it?” The others all nodded. Konyyl pulled both pins and tossed the grenades… and then she ran.

Behind her, the sound of the grenades going off echoed off the buildings surrounding the alley, bouncing off the brick and concrete surfaces. It was just another instrument in the symphony of destruction that was just opening in the city of Hivefield. Konyyl ignored the sounds — ignored all the distractions — and she pushed herself forward. Pushed herself to run as her lungs began to burn.

_What the fuck was that?! What the fuck are they doing?!_

Marsti was ahead of her, moving quickly — surprisingly fast for someone with so much medic shit strapped to her body. The two teals were even further ahead, unburdened by any equipment. That was good. Konyyl didn’t know why, but she felt strangely obligated to them — felt like they had become her charges as much as anyone under her command. As much as Marsti… or Kuprum.

She would miss him later. Miss him the same way she missed any of her fallen grubmates-in-arms. But that was a thought for a time when she wasn’t running for her life.

They turned back down two more alleys, out into a main road, and up ahead Konyyl could see the sign for a maintenance hatch. She shouted ahead to the teals — “Get inside that! Get inside and stay inside and don’t fucking come out!”

She saw Tyzias stumble, almost fall, and Stelsa reached down to steady her. Closing the distance to them, Konyyl grabbed Tyzias by the other arm and hoisted her up. “Get your asses in that hatch! Whatever bullshit pea shooters you’ve got under your cloaks won’t scratch these drones.”

Behind them, that same strangely _organic_ noise sounded.

The same whirring, roaring blast of gunfire.

The same wet sound.

Konyyl turned.

She screamed.

Marsti didn’t have a left leg anymore — in its place was only a stump that spewed rust-red blood onto the concrete. She had fallen to the ground and she wasn’t screaming — wasn’t moving — only looked shocked. She was moving her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but no sound was coming out.

Konyyl shoved the two teal bloods as hard as she could toward the next alley. They almost tripped — almost — but kept going, leaning forward and running as fast as they could.

She turned away, toward Marsti, and as she did the looming black shape of a drone crossed her field of vision. It was standing not far from them. Just… standing. Screaming, Konyyl ran to Marsti and slid down, almost falling face-first onto the concrete. She pulled aside the cloak, tossing the heavy fabric out of the way and grabbing for the medical pack on Marsti’s back.

“It’s fine! You’re good!” _Stop bleeding. Stabilize the wound._ Even the most severe injuries could be fixed with prosthetics — Marsti might have lost the leg, but it would be no trouble for the doctors to fix her up with a new one. They’d welcome the chance — the opportunity to create something more suited for combat out of it. “Hang in there!”

She managed to get out the emergency tourniquet — the leg was torn off about midway down the thigh, so she could still stop the bleeding. The flesh hung rusty and ragged, the bits of bone still jutting out the bottom. Konyyl looped the tourniquet around and cinched it tight, closing the loop and watching as the blood slowed from a torrent to a trickle.

Marsti was pale and panting — she’d be going into shock soon. Konyyl grabbed for an injector of synthedrine from the medic pack and jammed it down into Marsti’s other leg, the thick needle punching right through the fabric of her uniform.

I love yyou.

She wasn’t going to lose _another_ person that she cared about. Wasn’t going to have yet another die because of the Empire’s callousness… because of the Empire’s evil.

Konyyl was crying — the tears streaming down as she grabbed for the self-adhering wound dressing from the pack. Sobbing, she pressed the quick-clotting bandages to the stump that had once been Marsti’s leg, pressing them down.

“You’re gonna be okay!” she shouted. She didn’t even know if she believed it. “It’s gonna be okay!”

Marsti smiled at her, and struggled to speak… “Y...yeah” the smile grew weak, and her face slackened.

“Fucking damn it, Specialist! Keep your shit together!” She didn’t know why she was shouting at her — didn’t know what she thought was going to happen. Marsti’s breathing was slow and uneven — harsh.

In the depths of her soul, Konyyl didn’t think she was going to make it.

I love yyou.

Behind her, she heard it again. The too-alive sound of the strange black-shelled drone. It stepped forward, footfalls heavy on the ground. Konyyl turned to look at it — to see the thing towering over her. She looked up at it.

All at once, she had the uncanny sense of it looking back at her.

It chittered in a way that she’d never heard a drone sound before. There was no mechanical voice-box — no notice about imminent culling or dire warning about being in violation of some Imperial law. Instead, there was only the sound of the _thing_ that stood before her… the sound of it… talking?

The drone raised it’s arm, and Konyyl could see that the weaponry was arranged in a way that felt all wrong. There wasn’t a mounting hardpoint — wasn’t anything that would suggest the logic behind the construction of this thing.

She’d dropped her auto-rifle in the scramble to reach Marsti, and she didn’t bother going for her pistol. What good would it do?

Reaching back, Konyyl took Marsti’s hand. She felt the hand weakly squeeze back. At least she was alive for a few seconds longer. Konyyl smiled.

The drone stepped forward and pointed at her.

I love yyou.

“You too. All of you.”

For one final time, Konyyl Okimaw’s mind perceived the sound of the drone — the way it spoke to her. And then, the first _crack_ of the cannon that wasn’t so much _attached_ as _grafted on._

And then there was nothing of Konyyl Okimaw to perceive anything anymore.


	37. Echo

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0138 local time (1638 AUT)

None of them were able to just go back to sleep right away — Daraya, Lynera, and Bronya all sat in the central room, huddled together, and waited for more news from Stelsa or Tyzias. The information coming out of the field had made them all feel deeply and profoundly uncomfortable, and Daraya was still reeling from it even hours later.

Eventually, Daraya ended up propped up against Bronya with a gently snoring Lynera’s head in her lap. She didn’t want to wake Lynera, so she ended up sitting back and running her fingers slowly through her hair. She heard Bronya’s voice behind her, a whisper obviously intended not to wake Lynera.

“What’s on your mind?”

Daraya leaned her head back and rested her neck on Bronya’s shoulder. “What makes you think I’ve got something on my mind?”

“Because I know you. Because we’ve all got something on our minds.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, letting herself sink back against Bronya. Her cheek was up against Bronya’s neck — soft and pleasantly warm. She smelled faintly of sweat — a worried sweat that reminded Daraya that they’d all been up for hours now.

“Yeah, I know…” Daraya sighed and turned her head to nuzzle up against Bronya. “Ever since the raid I’ve been…”

She stopped. _I’ve been WHAT?_ She felt like some part of her personality had been wiped away and replaced with a blank slab that pressed down on her and wouldn’t let up.

“I haven’t been doing well since then. I’ve been trying, but… I wasn’t ready for all of this, okay?” She heaved out another sigh against Bronya’s neck, feeling the way the warm breath pooled and flowed around and came back to tickle her nose. “I was never ready to kill someone… but I killed someone.”

Bronya’s reaction was immediate — she circled her arms around Daraya’s waist and held her close. She didn’t say anything.

“Do you…” Daraya was still whispering, but she could feel bitter tears in her eyes. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

There wasn’t an answer right away. Instead, Bronya held her tighter and shrugged up her shoulder, pressing the two of them closer together. When Bronya finally did speak, the words were simple — “No, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Daraya wanted to ask her so much — to ask her _why_ she felt that way. To wonder why she was being so fucking _loving_ to her all the time. But she was too exhausted to even bother, so she just sat back and let herself be held. And as she sank into that feeling, she began to feel some small measure of that knot in her stomach untighten.

“I’m really worried about them,” Daraya said. “I sent Tyzias a message a little while ago because…” She stopped and drew in a long breath. “I guess because I wanted to talk to someone who I felt would understand what was going on with me. Because you and Lynera are amazing and I love both of you but… neither of you’s been out there like I had to. And the others… Stelsa seems like she’d just lecture me and honestly Polypa scares the shit outta me sometimes. So I thought… I thought I could talk to Tyzias and maybe they could help me like… I dunno..”

“Like a moirail?” Bronya asked quietly. “It sounds like that’s what you’re looking for to me. Someone who understands you differently than we do. Not better or worse… just different.”

Daraya smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. When you put it like that, anyway. I sent her a message and she never responded which… yeah, I get it with the jamming or whatever. I don’t know what’s going on though, because they sent all that intel but we haven’t heard anything else. I’m terrified…”

She sniffled wetly and Bronya squeezed her around the waist.

“I’m terrified that I just opened up to someone who’s lying dead somewhere. And I feel fucking selfish for thinking about that first part of it — like it matters to Tyzias whether or not I opened up to her under the circumstances.” Daraya laughed flatly. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“I, for one, do not think you are a mess, Daraya Jonjet.” Bronya’s voice was low, but insistent. “I think that you are a considerate person who often masks it behind a prickly outer shell.”

That made her smile in spite of herself. “Gee, thanks.”

“I love you for who you are,” Bronya said softly. “Please do not forget that.”

“Thanks…” Daraya could feel the warmth of Bronya’s body against her — the soft cushion of her stomach and breasts up against her back. In her lap, Lynera was still snoring quietly, her mouth hanging open and her arms wrapped around Daraya’s legs. If it wasn’t for everything else going on, Daraya would’ve said that this was just about perfect.

In her pocket, something vibrated.

“Oh shit.” She sat up sharply — Lynera stirred in her lap but didn’t wake.

“What is it?” Bronya asked, her voice worried. Daraya scrambled to pull the palmhusk out without bothering Lynera and looked down at it.

“She’s messaging me… I mean, Tyzias is!”

ferventnihilist began chatting with vengefulSpirit at 0147 AST (1647 AUT)

Tyzias

hey so… sorry to take so long to get back to you…

a lot’s been happening

Daraya

▲Oh holy shit! Are you okay?!▼

Tyzias

did you still wwwwant to talk? i mmmmean, about wwwwhat you wwwwere saying before?

Daraya

▼Tyz, what the fuck?! Are you serious?! What the hell happened?!▼   
▼The stuff you and Stelsa sent!▼

Tyzias

yeah…   
about that…

Daraya frowned at the screen — what the fuck was going on? The way Tyzias was talking, it sounded like she was just trying to start a casual conversation.

Daraya

▼▼▼I’m serious. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you… but this feels all kinds of fucked up▼▼▼

▼Can you just tell me what’s happening?!▼

There was a long pause — the small dots that indicated that Tyzias was typing flashed back and forth on the bottom of the screen. A minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Finally, the screen lit up again.

Tyzias

they’re all dead, dar

everyone but mmmme and stels

everyone

A wave of dread washed over Daraya. _Who is she talking about?! What the fuck happened there?!_

“Bronya…” she whispered. “I think something really fucked up happened.”

Daraya

▲Hey, talk to me, okay?▼   
▲Tell me what happened.▼

Tyzias

i don’t knowwww   
don’t knowwww if i wwwwant to   
wwwwe just… left themmmm back there   
couldn’t do anything but still wwwwe just left themmmm!

i sawwww your mmmmessage, dar   
i don’t knowwww wwwwhat else to tell you right nowwww   
i wwwwish i wwwwas in a better place because honestly…   
you deserve it

you’re a good person, dar   
a good fucking person

Daraya

▲Okay...▼   
▲Tyz… are you and Stelsa safe? Where are you?▼   
▲Did you get out of the city?▼

Tyzias

no   
wwwwe’re safe though i think   
at least for nowwww

wwwwe’re wwwwaiting for the sounds to stop   
so wwwwe knowwww it’s safe to get the fuck out of this place

Daraya

▼▼Sounds?! What the fuck happened?!▼▼

Tyzias

the soldiers are fighting up above and… i don’t think they’re wwwwinning   
sommmmething really fucking bad’s going on   
their jammmmmmmming equipmmmment wwwwent dowwwwn — wwwwe think their commmmmmmmand center probably got hit

fucking things aren’t even really attacking the city — mmmmostly the soldiers   
fucked up thing is i don’t even knowwww if it’s on purpose or wwwwhat!

Daraya

▲Okay, so at least you’re in one piece!▲

Tyzias

yeah   
big load of fucking good that did mmmme   
didn’t even really knowwww the others that wwwwell but still

i wwwwish i’d been able to help   
no wwwway i could’ve wwwwith this little fucking pop gun   
but i still wwwwish, you knowwww?

“Bronya… she’s talking about some people dying but she isn’t saying who. They’re not ours, but… she says the soldiers are fighting someone in the city?”

Bronya shook her head. “I don’t know… maybe we need to send someone out there to check it out?”

“I can go!” Daraya snapped, not even thinking about it. “I can go with Polypa.”

“Absolutely not!” Bronya said quickly.

“Why the fuck not?” Her voice was getting louder — in her lap, Lynera stirred again and began to open her eyes. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

She could feel Bronya shaking against her, and a moment later she realized that Bronya was crying. The sobs ran through her silently, and the tears dripped down.

“No… please…” It wasn’t an order. It wasn’t a demand. “Please…” Inside, Daraya could feel the tight clench of anger that had been building up let loose, and she slumped back onto Bronya’s chest and shoulder again.

“We should ask Tyzias,” Daraya said quietly. “Something happened and I think they want to talk about it, but they’re… the way they are.”

Bronya nodded slightly. In Daraya’s lap, Lynera yawned and closed her eyes again. She must’ve been exhausted, after everything.

Daraya

▲Okay, I’m here.▲   
▲Whatever you want to talk about, I’m here.▲

Tyzias

did i ever tell you about howwww i mmmmet stels?

Daraya

▲Yeah, you met each other during your pre-ascension training, right?▲

Tyzias

yeah but i mmmmean… howwww i mmmmet her again?

Daraya

▲No?▼

Tyzias

wwwwe got separate wwwwhen they recruited us and she ended up on the green mmmmoon for a bit   
i didn’t even knowwww   
and every single day that wwwwent by, i felt like i wwwwanted to crawwwwl inside mmmmyself and die

the not knowwwwing   
that wwwwas the wwwworst part

Daraya

▼God, Tyz… I’m so fucking sorry.▼

Tyzias

and then one day, i sawwww her during mmmmy training   
she’d been transferred and i didn’t even fucking knowwww!

i prommmmised mmmmyself that i’d alwwwways be there for her after that   
to help keep her safe

wwwwhich is kinda hilarious given howwww mmmmany timmmmes she’s saved mmmmy ass   
and i never got over that need to fucking… save everyone

i’mmmm a fucking mmmmess is wwwwhat i’mmmm saying

so wwwwhy the fuck are you talking to mmmme anywwwway?

Daraya

▲Because I feel comfortable with you.▼   
▲You’ve always been up-front and shit with me.▲   
▲And I trust you.▼

Tyzias

i’mmmm flattered   
baffled… but flattered

you really wwwwanna knowwww wwwwhat happened here?

fuck it

wwwwe ran into sommmme soldiers — led by the sammmme person stels and i ran into back on the iustitia wwwwhen everything wwwwas blowwwwing up   
for sommmme fucking reason she wwwwanted to help us out — helped bypass the jammmmmmmming field to send that shit to you folks

wwwwe wwwwere getting ready to head out and drones attacked us   
but these are not like other drones

there’s sommmmething wwwwrong wwwwith these things   
they act different

they act like they’re fucking alive

Daraya leaned forward, her stomach twisting itself around.

“Bronya… that shit you found on the terminal instars…” her voice felt far away, coming in through a tube. “Could that mean… could they put those things inside of a drone?”

She could feel Bronya shiver against her and the sense of growing terror gripped her even harder.

“Yes, in theory. I assume this has some direct relevance to Tyzias’ situation?”

Daraya nodded. “Yeah… I think that they did it. She’s saying something about strange drones… they attacked the city. Mostly the soldiers, I think?”

Tyzias

one of the drones attacked us and killed one of the soldiers…   
wwwwe thought wwwwe’d gotten awwwway but there wwwwas another one   
there’s so mmmmany of themmmm nowwww...

dar… it killed the other twwwwo   
wwwwe never stood a chance — thing didn’t even take a fucking scratch

i couldn’t do anything   
so wwwwhy the fuck can’t i stop crying about it?!

Daraya

▲Tyz, it wasn’t your fault at all.▼

Tyzias

i knowwww that   
but it still hurts   
it still feels hollowwww and emmmmpty and painful inside

you asked mmmme if i ever had to kill anyone   
if i knewwww howwww to deal wwwwith it

i have no idea because i’mmmm a fucking cowwwward   
i’mmmm the last person to be giving you advice on anything

Daraya

▲I don’t think that makes you a coward!▲   
▲You’re one of the bravest people I fucking KNOW!▲

Tyzias

mmmmmmmmmmmm   
thanks, kid   
i wwwwish i could believe that

look, wwwwe gotta poke our heads out soon to check on things   
noise is slowwwwing dowwwwn   
but there’s one thing you gotta check out in case wwwwe don’t mmmmake it

Daraya

▲What?▼

Tyzias

talk to cirava and figure out howwww wwwwe can get access to the drone scanning registry

Daraya

▼▼What the fuck is that?!▼▼

Tyzias

they’ll knowwww wwwwhat it is   
bottommmm line is… wwwwe gotta figure this shit out   
because i think sommmmething mmmmajor just changed wwwwith the emmmmpire

i don’t think things are going to be the sammmme   
and i don’t think they’re gonna get better

Daraya frowned. “She says we need to talk to Cirava about getting access to the drone scanning registry? Does she mean the jade registry? Why? Our cavern’s not—”

She stopped. Bronya had gone very still. Her breathing was harsh — almost ragged, as if she was fighting back a full-on panic attack.

“No…” she whispered. “She’s right… if everything is happening the way I think, we won’t last another sweep like this.”

“What?” Daraya felt herself starting to snap with frustration. “What is it? Bronya, please don’t act like I can’t handle this stuff… what is it?”

“The scanning registry is what the drone network uses to map and scan Alternia for settlements, rebel groups… that kind of thing. They never cared about this cavern before because to them it just looked like a bunch of caves. But now… it’s not a guarantee, but if they fly over and detect activity here then they’ll investigate and they’ll find us…”

“That makes no sense! There’s no enough drones to do that — they’ve always just done recruitment drives and spot checks on major stuff, right?”

“Yes… but if they’ve developed a type of drone that can follow basic instructions without an operator… or at least without a standard, adult operator…”

Daraya put the pieces together instantly, and a chill passed over her. She reached down and shook Lynera softly until the troll’s eyes finally opened. Daraya bent down and pushed a stray hair out of her eyes.

“Hey, Lyn… we gotta get our asses in gear. Something bad’s happening.”


	38. Conditional Loop

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1656 AUT

Once control had been transferred back to the bridge and the body of the teal Sub-Commander had been removed, Amisia and Ardata went inside to talk — Amisia insisted that she was fine with Remele standing outside. Initially the commando tried to protest, but Amisia shot her a nasty look and she backed off. They were inside for several hours.

Mallek supposed he probably was technically allowed to move around the Iustitia, but he wasn’t sure exactly where he would go. He didn’t have assigned quarters or anything, and he was fairly sure that he didn’t want to run into anyone dumping piles of bodies out the airlocks. So he found himself in the not-altogether-comfortable position of standing around waiting for them to finish with a heavily-armed cerulean commando.

For most of the time, they just stood in an awkward silence. Eventually, Mallek got sick of just standing around and tried to open up some kind of conversation.

“So… how long you been working for the Revolutionary Movement?”

Remele squinted and eyed him suspiciously. “You mean how long has it been since I betrayed the glorious Empire and became one of the feckless criminals that plague your every waking moment?”

Mallek stared, and a sudden bout of terror gripped his guts. “No! N-No what I mean is that I… I don’t… you…”

In an instant, Remele’s face broke into a sharp-toothed grin. She bent forward and laughed, holding her sides in an exaggerate gesture of how ridiculously funny this was.

“Oh my fucking Empress… you’ve should’ve seen your face!” She laughed. “You’re such a gullible man, you know?” Now that she was saying more than a few words, Mallek noticed that she had a slight accent — a way that she drew out certain syllables. Mallek tried to smile back, but he was still feeling a bit taken aback by this sudden shift.

Remele didn’t seem to care — her face broke into a wide grin as she leaned back against the bulkhead. “I’ve been working for Commander Amisia for the last… I don’t know… sweep or so? Before that, I was in the Alternian Fleet as one of their commandos.” Her face got a little bit of a far-away look and her voice sounded fuzzy.

“Why’d you quit?” Mallek asked. “I thought they chose the commandos for their loyalty or some shit like that?”

She laughed. “Fucking idiot. They choose the commandos based on our ability to survive the various enhancement procedures. Would you believe there was a time I wanted to be an artist?”

“Really?” Mallek wasn’t sure he could picture this massive, armored woman doing anything of the sort.

“Yes, _really_.” She rolled her eyes. “I was an accomplished painter and a writer of no small renown. I thought that perhaps I could obtain some kind of a cultural deferral from service… some kind of arrangement with the Alternian Imperial College on Empress’ Bounty.” Mallek hadn’t heard the name of that colony world in a while — a fabled place for the artistically inclined among the higher bloods to advance Alternian culture when they went offworld.

Remele frowned. “It turns out that this is a path mainly intended for the high bloods. A cerulean… well, they discovered that I had a natural athletic aptitude and a very high level of pain tolerance.” She rubbed her hand on her opposite arm in a gesture that looked unconscious. “So my path was decided.”

“You left the Fleet?”

She shook her head and rapped her knuckles against the bulkhead quickly — another unconscious gesture. “I was _rescued_ from the Fleet. Apparently my Fleet profile made some note of my… reluctance to do certain tasks that were required of me.”

“What?”

She sighed. “Why bother with the euphemisms, right? I was ordered to kill some colonists. I refused. Not that it mattered… my squadmates were more than happy to comply. All I managed to do was end up in holding awaiting a trial.”

Mallek shivered — he knew firsthand what that actually meant.

“Amisia pulled some strings with people she had on the inside and broke me out. She said I was free to go but… well, she obviously had a need for someone to keep her safe, and I felt more than a little adrift without someone to work for.” She shrugged and shifted forward, stretching her back until the joints made a soft _pop._ “Win-win, I figure. Make a better world, fuck over the Empire, keep from getting bored.”

“A better world…” Mallek looked around. There was no denying that whatever Amisia and ARM were trying to do was probably better than the Empire — that wasn’t a high bar to clear — but Mallek wasn’t sure he would use the term “better world” to describe it. Maybe more just “different.”

“You’re not good at hiding your feelings about stuff,” Remele said. “You don’t have to see the point of it all… just step back and let us handle things.” The last bit had a touch of threat to it — Mallek could see that clearly, and the way that Remele shifted her boarding carbine on its shoulder strap only helped to underscore the point.

* * *

After another twenty minutes, the door to the bridge finally opened again, and Ardata and Amisia walked out, both of them looked… not _happy_ necessarily, but like they’d both come to some kind of agreement.

“Okay, Mallek,” Amisia said. “Time for you to do your part for the Revolutionary Movement!”

“What?” Mallek looked from Amisia to Ardata, confusion on his face. “I thought my part was to do that announcement or whatever.”

Amisia laughed lightly. “Oh no! That was nice, but you’re so much more than that. Come with me! Come, come!” She motioned for Mallek to follow… so he pushed himself off the bulkhead and walked after Amisia into the bridge. Crossing the threshold, Mallek could feel a strange sensation of pushing off from himself — a distance, as if he were watching everything play out in front of his eyes.

_I remember the last time I was here._ It hadn’t ended well… the High Imperator had threatened to glass the city of Everdim if he didn’t give up the information on the rebellion’s base. Eventually, he’d done it…

And the High Imperator had leveled the city anyway.

Mallek’s breathing hitched up, and he felt himself gasping for air. Behind him, he heard Remele mutter — “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like being here.” The answer sounded so painfully inadequate, but it was what he had. “I don’t want to be here.”

To his surprise, Mallek felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Remele smiling at him. “Focus on the task at hand — that’s how I always got through the worst parts.”

Mallek nodded and turned to speak to Amisia. “What do you need me to do? I’m sorry but I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.” She shrugged and nodded.

“Just need you to do something first, if you can. Something related to the ship’s computer.”

As soon as he heard that, Mallek’s ears perked up. There were few things he felt more comfortable with than the various systems and programs that he used to try to spread the message of rebellion against the Alternian Empire. Even if it was something as simple as hacking into the Empress’ Chittr account to mock her… there was so much that could be accomplished. Amisia seemed to pick up on this energy immediately, because she smiled at him.

“Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it? Well, this is pretty important. See, Ardata and I figured that there’s two things that’ll make getting anywhere close to the Pink Moon impossible.” She walked to the central command console and pulled up a diagnostic interface on the main viewscreen. Mallek wasn’t familiar with the specifics of the interface, but he recognized a lot of what he saw.

“First problem,” she said, “is that the ship lost contact with the orbital identification system for a few seconds when we pulled the main power. That means we’ll have to re-initialize the connection… but that’s where the _other_ problem comes in.” She pulled up a second screen — one that was lit up with all kinds of red warnings. “See, when we cut the old helmsman and put our new one into the system, that caused a few problems.” Mallek saw Ardata bristle at the mention of the old helmsman… who, by the smell of the bridge, was basically cooked inside his chamber.

Amisia pulled up a second screen. “The tricky part is we need to register a new helmsman, but that’s normally not something that can be done underway like this. Usually battleships have a spare helmsman but… well I guess it was an oversight during the refit.” Amisia shrugged. “Bottom line is I need you to register Folkyl as our new helmsman so the Pink Moon railgun doesn’t blast us the second we bring our identification system back online.”

Mallek smiled — this was going to be a technical challenge of the highest order… and there were few things he liked more than a nice technical challenge.

* * *

Since she seemed eager enough to help, Mallek enlisted Remele as his assistant. That basically amounted to her pushing buttons when he told her to. It beat the hell out of having to hoist himself back up to the command console every time he needed to check something. After an hour, he was able to patch a portable computer into the console and fool it into thinking it was a diagnostic console. That was a good start, at least.

For the next twenty minutes, Mallek went through and familiarized himself with all of the ship’s system, starting with a top-level overview and honing in on the ones that seemed to be the most directly relevant to fixing the identification and navigation systems. Another fifteen minutes, and he’d managed to find the elements in the ship’s systems registry that held the encrypted tokens for the helmsman registration.

Mallek slid out from under the console and called to Amisia.

“Hey! You got access to your helmsman’s registry information?”

Amisia shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so. Why?”

Mallek grinned — this was about as perfect as it was going to get. “Nice! Get me a data line to their interface.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Amisia’s voice sounded apprehensive, and Mallek wondered — not for the first time — what exactly her deal was. She seemed to genuinely care about the people she was leading, but she hadn’t hesitated to cut down the crew of the Iustitia that couldn’t be turned to help her.

“Nothing. I’m going to overwrite her registry info with the encrypted key from in the system. As far as it’s concerned, it’ll just think she’s the same person. There’s just one more thing I need — can you go grab that gold-blood you had around earlier?”

“Azdaja?” Ardata said cautiously. “What do you need from him?”

“His intelligence daily codes. They should still be good, assuming this ship never sent out a distress beacon.”

“It didn’t,” Ardata grumbled. “Never got a chance to.”

* * *

Azdaja walked onto the bridge looking nervous — worried. Mallek couldn’t blame him. Things had been shifting so rapidly lately that he probably didn’t have any idea what was going on. Mallek adopted his calmest, most soothing tone.

“It’s okay — you don’t need to be worried. I just need your help with something here.”

Azdaja shook his head. “It’s not that. I trust that the Fleet Commander wouldn’t have agreed to this without good reason, and I trust her. It’s just…” He glanced around the room. “My matesprit hasn’t responded to me yet, and she was supposed to be recalled not long ago.”

“Recalled?” Mallek asked.

“Yes.” Azdaja sounded fed up. “She was in charge of a squad down in the city of Hivefield. They were supposed to be picked up a short while ago and she normally sends me a message to assure me she is okay. I haven’t received the aforementioned message yet.”

He frowned. “It’s probably nothing. A delay, as is typical of the Alternian Empire. Maybe we can change that.” He smiled and nodded to Mallek. “You need, I assume, my Fleet codes?”

Mallek blinked and stared. “Yeah… how’d you know?”

“Simple deduction. The only personnel with those codes are intelligence, to prevent captains from mutinying against the Empire. There are several things you could need them for, but they’re basically the only thing that I can uniquely contribute.”

“Uh… yeah, actually. We’re trying to make sure the Pink Moon’s railgun doesn’t plink us out of the sky when we bring the navigation stuff back online.”

Azdaja smiled and nodded. “Of course. Allow me to use the console briefly.” He motioned towards it and Mallek nodded. Without waiting, Azdaja sat down behind it and began to type quickly. After a minute, he grunted. “It should be fine now.”

Mallek grinned and went back to the computer, continuing the work he needed to do to copy the registration information. He nodded along as he worked, getting lost in the rhythm of the code.

Nearby, he heard Remele gasp.

The rhythm faltered. He stopped and slid out again, looking over at Remele, who was showing a palmhusk to Amisia and gesturing toward the viewscreen. Amisia said something low and turned to Mallek.

“How much longer, Mr. Adalov?” Mallek narrowed his eyes at that — she was being awfully formal all of a sudden.

“Maybe ten minutes. Why? What’s going on?”

She furrowed her brow, and it looked like she was deciding whether or not to say anything. Finally, her shoulders slumped.

“Hivefield was attacked.”

Mallek felt himself sinking. It was the same as half a sweep ago. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with tissue. Nearby, he could see Azdaja standing perfectly still, his mouth open. “What… what ship attacked?”

But she was shaking her head. “It wasn’t a ship… wasn’t an orbital strike. It was a fleet of drones. Our contact says they were covered in a thick black armor that’s impervious to small arms fire. They were mostly attacking armed individuals and leaving the civilians alone for the most part. Attacking both some of our people… and the soldiers stationed there.”

Mallek heard a heavy _thud_ as Azdaja dropped to his knees and began frantically typing on his palmhusk. Looking back to Amisia, Mallek glared at her. “What the fuck is going on here?! Is this some weird ARM double play?”

But her face was genuinely worried — she didn’t know what was happening. “Fine, I’ll bring the navigation systems online and we can get going.”

As quickly as his increasingly-numb hands would go, Mallek tapped out the necessary commands. It was a matter of minutes, and the process was complete. As far as the system was concerned, Folkyl was now identical to the recently-deceased former helmsman of the Iustitia.

“All set,” Mallek said with a slightly groan as he pulled himself back up to standing. “I think we’re ready to fire this thing up and get moving.”

“Do it,” Amisia said quietly. “Do it now.”

He went to set the controls… but there was a blinking indicator that wasn’t there before. “We’ve got a priority transmission incoming.”

“From _where?!_ ” Amisia said. Before she could say anything else, Ardata walked quickly over and shoved Mallek aside.

“This is still my ship, damn it.” She glared down at the readouts on the console and her eyes went wide. “This is coming from the Pink Moon!”

“They probably noticed that our identification system came back online,” Mallek said. “We need let them know everything’s good. Which will probably mean having you talk to them, _Fleet Commander._ ” He looked at Ardata, who shrugged.

“Fine.” She pressed the button to put the communication display up on the main window.

There on the viewscreen, burning in the liquid crystals of the display at three times life-size, was the smiling face of Her Impassioned Imperious Majesty Trizza Tethis.

Mallek felt his blood run cold, all at once.

“Hey there, bitches! What’s good? Fleet Commander Carmia, excellent to see you again.” She nodded, but her smile was cold. “Well, I should probably say _former_ Fleet Commander, since you’re officially on the cull-on-sight list as of a couple hours ago.” Trizza shrugged.

Ardata bowed her head. “My Empress — if I might be so bold as to ask—”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Ardata!” The Empress yelled. “You think I’m fucking stupid? The second your ship’s systems got hijacked it blasted an encoded message out to my wonderful helpers here on the Pink Moon!” She grinned, and then the smile vanished. “So you’re all on the list… you and whoever else is there on the bridge with you. It doesn’t matter, because I’m going to kill every last one of you.” She rolled her eyes up — thoughtful. “Well, not _me,_ personally. But… you know what I mean.”

Mallek saw something flashing on one of the nearby screens and ran over to check it. He wasn’t familiar with the interface or the display and fumbled with it before Azdaja came up next to him. The gold blood looked hollowed-out, as if something had been dragged out of his soul.

“I’ll get it,” he said quietly. He punched a couple commands and glanced down. “Oh… of course.”

“What is it?” Mallek asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Trizza smiling on the viewscreen.

“Anyway… byeeeee, you disloyal bitches.” Trizza said that one final thing and the viewscreen went dark.

“What is it?!” Mallek could hear his voice rising in a panicked pitch. Azdaja sighed and tapped the screen.

“We have a large number of small, unidentified contacts approaching rapidly from the planet. Judging by their trajectory, they originated from somewhere near Hivefield.”

Mallek stared at the screen — at the small cluster of blips that was growing closer and closer to what he assumed represented the Iustitia.

“How long?!” He was trying so hard not to panic.

Azdaja looked utterly defeated. “Ten minutes. Fifteen at the outset. We should… we should get ready.”

Ardata yelled from the command console — “All hands! To battle stations!” Her hand flipped up a cover, slammed down on a button, and the ship came alive with a cacophony of noise and flashing emergency lights.

And Mallek wanted to scream.


	39. The Other Place

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0158 local time (1658 AUT)

Chixie drifted in the gentle hold of sleep, cradled in Elwurd’s arms. Her embrace was warm — caring in a way that Chixie thought was unfamiliar to her. Not unnatural… not impossible… but something that she’d kept from others out of a desire to protect herself. That was something that Chixie could understand deeply. Maybe that was one of the reasons her feelings for Elwurd had transformed over time… maybe not.

In any case, Chixie felt safe.

Chixie drifted.

Chixie dreamed.

And in her dreams, she awoke.

* * *

Chixie’s eyes opened slowly, the blurry haze of sleep still on them… it was taking her a minute to adjust to the brilliant light that was streaming in through the window. Somewhere in her mind, a small voice whispered that this wasn’t right. Because the caverns didn’t have windows, and they didn’t have gentle, golden light that bathed her in a sense of warmth and comfort. A sense of _knowing._

Blinking heavily, Chixie sat up in her bed — and she knew that was the right word for it, somehow. She was by herself, but for some reason that didn’t feel unusual. The room around her was furnished with accents of gold and warm wood — the kind of room that looked like it could easily be a highblood’s study, but as inviting as any rust blood hive. Chixie swung her legs off the bed and her bare feet touched a warm wooden floor.

She remembered falling asleep naked, but she wasn’t naked anymore. Instead, she wore a long set of golden pajamas… robes? There was something strangely _familiar_ about them. These were the robes that she wore in her dreams… before she was fully awake.

Lifting herself off the bed, Chixie walked toward the window. Outside the window, the brilliance of the day was all around, but always stopped short of being overwhelming. All around, the golden towers of this place soared around her — and above them, the clouds in the blue sky rolled and turned and formed dark shapes around her.

Below, the golden streets extended in every direction for what felt like forever. This place was huge — a city of almost unimaginable size. And yet she knew that if she wanted to, she could soar to its far corners in but an instant. This place...

This place had a name.

For the first time, she knew it.

_Prospit._

* * *

Chixie walked a quick circuit of the room, looking over the furniture and decorations. The bed was the centerpiece of the room — a grand affair with a large, padded loungeplank and four tall, wooden posts that reached all the way up to the ceiling of the room. At the head of the bed, there was a plaque with a strange symbol painted on it — a circle with three hooked claws that came out and hooked parallel to the curve of the circle.

Somehow, the symbol looked familiar. It looked like something she’d come to know as deeply and closely as anything else about herself. It was something she couldn’t quite put words to, but she seemed to understand it as intuitively as her own name.

Normally, Chixie knew, she would’ve stayed in this room in the tower. Maybe she would’ve watched the clouds for a while longer. Maybe she would’ve sat in the grand chair by the fireplace on the far side of the room. Maybe she would’ve even read one of the many books in the great bookshelf that was up against the other wall.

Instead, she walked to the heavy wooden doorway that led to the staircase down — the door that was carved with the same taloned circle that was painted above the bed. She had the feeling that she might’ve tried this door before, only to find it locked. She half-expected it to be locked now, but when she turned the handle it opened smoothly and soundlessly.

She walked down the spiral stairs from the tower, running her hands along the warm stone of the walls. As she felt the rough texture run along her fingertips, a realization struck her — a realization that had been hanging on the edge of her mind since she first saw this place.

_This isn’t a dream._

If anything, the other world was the dream — the world where she lived in fear and hiding and with the constant worry that the next day she would be discovered and everything would be ripped away from her.

Chixie reached the bottom of the stairs. There was, of course, another door — a twin to the one above, right down to the symbol. A symbol that meant more and more as she saw it.

She opened the door and stepped out into the golden streets.

All around her, the noise of the golden city was suddenly filling her ears. Where it had been nearly silent before, it was now awash with the low bustle of daily life. Strange, white-shelled people walked around in colorful outfits. They looked at her curiously, but they didn’t seem surprised to see her. Rather, their faces spoke of a kind of relief that she was finally out of the tower and walking among them.

Once more, the sense struck Chixie that she didn’t strictly _need_ to walk — that she could just as easily take to the skies and fly wherever she wanted to go. But Chixie wanted to walk — felt like it was _right_ to walk. She set out in a direction that seemed random… but she knew it wasn’t.

* * *

Chixie realized as she walked among the crowds of colorfully-dressed residents that she could understand what they were saying. They didn’t seem to be moving their mouths — didn’t actually even seem to _have_ mouths — but she could still hear them just as clearly as anyone else. They whispered as she passed, glancing around nervously. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but it sounded important.

Finally, she walked up to one of the people — they looked afraid, but Chixie smiled.

“Hey. I’m not gonna hurt you!” She closed her eyes and her smile broadened. “I’m just kinda lost.”

The person spoke. “We’re not worried about you.” They paused and glanced skyward, as if waiting for something to come and attack them. “You belong here… _he_ doesn’t.”

Chixie frowned. “Who doesn’t belong?”

But the small creature shook their head vigorously. “No! I won’t speak on it and you can’t make me! He’s not here yet! He won’t be here until the others show up!” The white-shelled little person ducked down and scampered off, leaving Chixie even more confused than before. She sighed.

“Fine.”

And she continued on to her destination. Down the winding streets of the golden city, walking in the light that warmed but didn’t burn her. It didn’t take long for her to reach her destination… or maybe it did, but time worked differently here. Chixie wasn’t sure exactly, but after some time she stood in front of the door to another tower. On the door was a symbol — what looked like a single, solid cog from some great machine.

Chixie opened the door and stepped inside.

* * *

She walked up the spiral stairs — the stairs that were so reminiscent of her own. The sense of familiarity mingled in with something else… a feeling of _otherness_ that tugged and pulled at the back of her mind. The steps glided by underneath her, one at a time, until finally she was at the top. In front of her, there was another wooden door — a door with a blank cog carved in it.

Taking a deep breath, Chixie opened the door.

Her initial feeling was one of a shocking kind of deja vu — the room inside was similar to her own, but something seemed off about it. It felt more… lived in. The bed sat in its place, empty. Books were taken off the shelves and piled up, half-read, and there were stacks of paper lying around.

By the window, two high-backed chairs stood facing away. And from the one closest to the door, Chixie got the sense of _presence_ — of someone sitting there. Of someone waited for her, specifically.

They didn’t need to say anything… in her soul, Chixie already knew who they were. She walked across the room toward the far chair, getting ready to sit down. As she did, she looked down.

Sitting in the chair, head propped pensively on an arm, was the hulking form of Marvus Xoloto.

“Hey, girl. Been a while… I think. Sorry, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Have a seat.” He gestured to the far chair and nodded.

Chixie sat down heavily, her small frame feeling tiny against the large chair that was clearly built with Marvus in mind. She propped herself on the edge and stared at him.

“Seriously — how long’s it been? Goin crazy up in here just thinking on stuff.”

“It’s been a half-sweep, about,” Chixie said quietly. She wasn’t sure of a delicate way to ask her next question, so she just blurted it out — “Aren’t you dead?” _Of course he’s dead, but this is a dream._ But that didn’t feel quite right — seeing him here… that was something more meaningful than merely _dreaming_ about him.

Marvus nodded slowly and smiled. “That I am, girl. Not even a body left behind.”

“Then how are you here?” she asked softly, staring.

Marvus shrugged. “Life’s got more to it than just livin, ya know?” He laughed the same laugh she remembered. “Which is to say I’m not sure, girl. Just seems like those of us what woke up here ain’t gonna be playin by the same rules anymore.”

Chixie’s mind made the connection instantly and her ears perked up. “Wait! You mean there could be others here too! Who?! Is…” She stopped herself short of _is Skylla here_ because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to that.

“Sure, girl. A few others around. Mostly sleeping, most of the time. Couple that wake up, but I don’t think they’re fully with it yet.” He nodded and leaned forward, stroking his chin with his fingers. “I mostly been up in here readin and such. Lot of books on a lot of different things. Seen some stuff in the clouds too… interesting stuff.”

“I… I think I know what you mean. But I’m not sure what it means.” She remembered the sense of something moving around inside the clouds — something ominous.

“Girl, if I knew straight up I’d just tell you. Course, a Seer can’t be _too_ direct. That’d just be straight-up un-fuckin-ethical.” He laughed. “Little bit of humor for ya, girl.”

“A Seer?” Chixie felt her head prickling with a combination of confusion and a strange sense of knowing exactly what he meant.

“Don’t worry about it, Chix. Least important thing right now,trust me.” Marvus frowned deeply. “Your friends back on Alternia… they’re workin on somethin big. Somethin important.”

“Then I need to be back there helping them!”

“No, you don’t.” Marvus leaned towards her. “Girl… you gotta stop them.”

Chixie frowned and shook her head. “What?! No! There’s no way I’m—”

“You let them do what they’re planning, then none of them that go are coming back alive.”

She sat there with her mouth hanging open, not sure what to say next. Here was this dead troll telling her about the future… but he wasn’t really dead, was he?

“I know you’re getting all red for that Elwurd chick — that’s cool. But if you want her to live more than another cycle, then you’ll use your gift to convince them to wait it out. To figure out how to reach out to the one person who can help you on this.”

“Who? Please…” She couldn’t do this vague shit anymore.

“Yeah, sorry… Mallek Adalov. You need to get him to help you.”

“What the fuck?!” Chixie sat back against the chair, causing it to rock against the floor. “You’re gotta be kidding! The one who sold us all out! Who lied and said we blew up those people in the market?!”

“I know…” Marvus sighed and leaned forward. He reached out a hand and put it gently on Chixie’s shoulder. She looked into his eyes, and she saw something she didn’t think she’d noticed before — a deep _sadness_ that seemed to emanate from within.

“We’re coming up on the end of an era, girl. Prepare for it or be consumed by it. You want your friends and their little fuschia egg to fill their destiny? Then you gotta get them to stop this shit and you gotta find Mallek.”

“Find him? How? He’s probably with whoever the fuck had him saying all that shit.”

“Oh, no doubt.” Marvus nodded. “He’s up there… but he’s also here.” Marvus spread his hands out in a sweeping gesture, and Chixie knew exactly what he meant. “Chix — you’re a Sylph, so act like one.”

“A _what?!_ What the fuck does that mean?”

Marvus laughed at her — it wasn’t mean-spirited or hurtful, just laced with knowledge that she didn’t have yet. “Don’t worry about it, girl. Just my weird way of sayin you got this.”

* * *

Chixie felt herself drifting back softly, gently. The sopor around her was warm and comforting, but the feeling of another body in there had gone. Instead, Chixie felt alone and surprisingly vulnerable. She scrambled, coming back to wakefulness and finally poking her head over the edge of the recupercoon and blinking heavily. 

In the corner of the room, Elwurd was getting dressed quickly. She had a hurried air about her, and Chixie got a bad feeling. It wasn’t just Elwurd, either… it was the dreams.

Normally, the memory was a vague one — a half-remembered vision of a golden city. But today it was as striking as if she’d just walked in from another place.

_It’s not a dream. You know it’s not a dream._

Elwurd noticed her stirring and turned, trying her best to smile. “Hey… didn’t want to wake you up, Chix. Polypa came by and told us we’re holding an emergency meeting… like, right the fuck now apparently. I think she wants you there too… everyone, really.

Marvus’ words echoed in her mind.

_You let them do what they’re planning, then none of them that go are coming back alive._

In that moment, Chixie suddenly felt very alone… and very afraid.


	40. Hard Burn

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1704 AUT

The noise pressed in around him, making Mallek want to tear his hair out. The blaring scream of the station alarms mixing in with the shouting of the personnel who now occupied the bridge. Ardata had taken her place at the command console with Amisia hovering nearby. But for all of her pretense of being a leader, Amisia was out of her element here. She looked like she was on the verge of panicking — about how Mallek was feeling, if he was being really honest with himself.

Ardata, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. Whatever Mallek might be able to say about her cruelty, or her sadism… he couldn’t say anything against her raw abilities as a starship commander.

“Amisia,” Ardata snapped. “Your helmsman — where’re they operating out of?” Amisia seemed to falter for a second, so Ardata snapped her fingers loudly. “Quick! We’ve only got a few minutes!”

Finally, Amisia relented. “Okay, fine. She’s in a pod attached to one of the airlocks. Using drone systems to tap into the ship.” Mallek could see Ardata’s face twist when she heard it — it was obviously not an ideal answer.

“Get her the fuck in here. We’re gonna need her at peak performance to operate the weapons, and that’s not it.”

“You don’t understand!” Amisia squeaked. “She’s void rotted! She needs to be able to leech off the fixed power supply in her pod or else she’ll die!”

“I’m familiar with void rot, Amisia,” Ardata said back in a deadpan. “Find someone with enough energy to carry her in here, and make it fast.” Amisia took one look at Ardata’s face… then nodded and silently left to carry out the orders. On this ship, in this situation, there was no question of her authority.”

Once Amisia had left, she turned to Mallek. “I don’t suppose you ever learned how to do anything useful on a starship, did you?”

“I—I mean, I’m going to stay out of your way — I’ve seen enough of you know there’s nothing—”

Ardata cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Never mind. What you’re going to do is help me get that poor sack of meat out of the helmsman’s chamber.”

Mallek cringed — this wasn’t something she’d ever expected when getting up this cycle. But also, Ardata wasn’t asking him. He followed her to the front of the bridge, toward the helmsman chamber.

“If my theory is right,” Aradata said, “then the interface will largely be undamaged by what happened. If their helmsman is void rotted — Empress I have no idea why they thought that would be a good idea — then she’ll need to be plugged into the ship to draw from power to keep her going.” She sighed. “Which means we have some cleaning to do.”

Ardata punched a button labelled with an outline of warning tape and there was a loud _buzz[/em] And the distinct sound of latches clicking back onto their resting places. “You ready for this?” Ardata asked with a grin. The answer was absolutely, uncategorically “no” but Mallek didn’t say anything. Instead, he watched as the helmsman’s chamber was slowly peeled open._

 __

The first thing that caught him was the _semll_ of it. It was a sickening combination of burned flesh and the ozone smell of burned electrical work… except that Mallek was sure that it wasn’t coming from anywhere but the individual in the chamber itself.

__

Looking at the body of the helmsman, Mallek felt a wave of nausea hit him that threatened to double him over. He turned away quickly, fighting with that sudden and almost overpowering urge to say something. He heard Ardata’s voice…

__

“Shame, really.” She clucked her tongue. “So many ways that all of this could’ve been avoided.” Without another word, she walked up and grabbed the body of the hapless gold blood that’d been in there when the surge hit and basically cooked them. The noise of it was grotesque — a wet kind of peeling, crackling noise as Ardata pulled them off of the connections that had once linked them to the ship. “Never let it be said that I won’t get my hands dirty,” she muttered, half to herself.

__

Finally, Ardata ripped the last connection free and tossed the frail, scarred body of the gold blood onto the deck of the ship. Mallek looked away, still battling with his stomach in a bout to see whether he or the desire to vomit would win.

__

From nearby, he heard the noise of someone clearing their throat and looked up to see Amisia standing near the entrance to the bridge. This time, she wasn’t alone — there was a bulky olive blood next to her, and clinging to the olive blood’s shoulders was a gold blood, hunched over and shivering slightly. Her hair was long and matted, and her eyes were the flat black of the void-rotted. This had to be Folkyl. The olive blood shrugged and she dropped down to her feet, shivering as she lost contact with the person who she’d been leeching off of.

__

“Well then, get going,” Amisia said to her. “They’ve cleaned out the chamber for you, isn’t that nice?”

__

Folkyl stumbled forward, muttered something under her breath, and walked toward the chamber. She glanced over at Mallek quickly, uneasily, and shook her head.

__

“Well go on,” Amisia chided. “The sooner you’re plugged in, the sooner you’ll be able to draw off all that energy the ship has. Won’t that feel nice?”

__

Mallek thought he caught the glimpse of a smile from Folkyl, but it was a sad one. She reached the chamber and sniffed the air quickly. “Smells like ass here,” she said in a grating voice. “Like gross fucking ass.”

__

Even still, she stepped into the chamber and began to attach the recently-disconnected interface leads to herself, plugging them into the surgically-added ports in her skin. Folkyl sighed heavily. “Guess it’s fine. Feels better than being cold. Still smells like ass.” She finished plugging herself in and settled into the harness that was still stained with the former helmsman’s blood.

__

“Okay, I’m in. Close the fucking door already,” Folkyl said gruffly. Ardata smoothly shut the door in one motion and it hissed slightly as it automatically sealed itself off.

__

In that moment, despite the imminent danger bearing down on them, all Mallek could feel was a combination of hurt that anyone had to live like this and anger at the system that facilitated it. He’d heard about the helmsmen plenty of times, but this was the first time he’d actually _seen_ the system in place.

__

“Okay, fuck-around time is over,” Ardata yelled to the bridge crew. “We’ve got multiple incoming and I’d prefer not to die.” Mallek shrank back, trying to find someplace to be less visible than the center of the bridge. Aradata looked directly at him. “Strap the fuck in, we’re about to engage.”

__

As she said it, Ardata was already getting into the Commander’s chair and engaging the restraints. As quickly as he could, Mallek found the nearest free seat and began to fumble with his own restraints — the buckles suddenly far more difficult than they had any right to be. Finally, the restraints clicked into place and Mallek instinctively grabbed onto the handles next to the seat, holding on tight.

__

From a nearby console, one of the bridge crew yelled out — “Hostiles engaging! Autocannons targeting now!”

__

The ship shifted and turned, the sensation of changing acceleration easily felt even with the gravity generator. Ardata slammed down a fist on one of the buttons on the command console and spoke into a microphone — Mallek could hear her voice echoing throughout the ship.

__

“All hands, secure for combat maneuvers!” She waited a short time, then spoke again. “All hands, gravity generator offline in thirty seconds! Secure for combat immediately!”

__

The same voice from the bridge crew again — “Hostiles are still coming! Autocannons cycling down to reload. Switching to secondary banks.”

__

Ardata growled and swore. “Fuck. Divert all power from gravity to engines. Get ready to make a hard burn into low orbit.” This time, she was talking to Folkyl — talking, for all intents and purposes, to the ship itself. “Let’s see if these fuckers can handle the gravity well.”

__

“Commander — gravity is powering down,” the bridge officer said… and Mallek felt himself start to drift up against his restraints, his stomach no longer grounded by the artificial gravity that had previously held it down. He felt like throwing up again.

__

The next sensations came all at once — the hard tug of acceleration as the Iustitia burned down toward low orbit… toward Alternia.

__

And the first rumbling blast of something hitting the hull as the attack began in earnest.

__

Mallek squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, praying to a deity he didn’t believe in that he would live to see the other end of this.

__

* * *

__

_ “So you were just planning to sneak out without saying anything, huh?” Elwurd’s voice came from behind him, back toward the cavern entrance. It wasn’t accusatory — just stating a simple fact. Still, he flushed with embarrassment as soon as he heard it. _

_ “I wasn’t… I was just…” Mallek stumbled with the words, but he didn’t feel much in a lying mood. “Yeah, I guess so. Is that a fucking problem.” _

_ He turned to look at Elwurd, who shrugged and shook her head. “I mean… not with me specifically, I guess. Some of the others might have something to say on it. Bronya, probably. Maybe Polypa.” Again, she shrugged. _

_ Mallek glared and shifted in place, feeling the cool night breeze against his face. It called out to him — the sense that he didn’t belong in the caverns. The sense that he needed to be somewhere else, even if that place wasn’t defined for him yet. “You’re going to go tell them?” _

_ “No,” she said plainly. “I wasn’t gonna tell them. You’re not a jade blood… you’re not one of their new soldiers. Pretty sure you didn’t sign up for shit.” _

_ Mallek nodded at her. “That’s right. I didn’t sign up for _shit!_ I did what I could to help and now… I’ve gotta move on.” _

_ “Where are you planning to go?” _

_ “Hivefield. I’ll walk there and then… I dunno. Take a train out to one of the other cities? Try to see who else is out there loyal to the cause. Send them this way, maybe.” He smiled, but Elwurd was glaring at him. _

_ “You know that’s a shitty idea. We need to stay safe here. The jades are right about that, at least. That fucking egg… that alone would get us razed to the fucking ground.” _

_ “Fine!” Mallek snapped back at her. “I won’t say anything. I just feel like there’s more I can be doing out there. Revolution is the goal, not isolating ourselves forever.” _

_ “They’re taking time to plan,” Elwurd said. Why was she being so damn _defensive_ about this? _I swear to fuck — she gets into a red thing with a couple of jades and suddenly she’s ready to join their fucking cloister._ _

_ “Well, they could do a damn lot more than plan.” _

_ “What? Like Galekh did?” Elwurd’s words cut right into Mallek — he stared with his mouth open. “You and I were both pulled into that — don’t act like you knew what he was about. They’re still out there… whoever else was working with him. You can’t just… trust people.” _

_ Mallek scowled and didn’t answer — did she honestly think that he _didn’t_ know any of this? He’d been next in line for Galekh’s favor, and he wasn’t about to forget it. _

_ “Just… be careful, okay?” Elwurd said quietly. “For a shitty dude, you’re pretty all right.” _

_ Mallek looked closely, but she was smiling. “Yeah, well… for a useless fucking chick, you’ve got your head on pretty straight.” Mallek grinned at her. _

_ Elwurd made a look of mock surprise. “There’s nothing _straight_ about my head, dumbass!” _

_ He laughed — Elwurd laughed. She reached up and put a hand behind her head in a gesture of nervousness he’d seen a few times in the past. _

_ “Seriously, stay safe, Mallek.” _

_ “Yeah, don’t worry… I will.” _


	41. Emergency Session

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0221 local time (1721 AUT)

“Seriously, are you okay?” Elwurd looked closely at Chixie, seated next to her around the large table in the caverns’ meeting room. Chixie looked nervous… well, Chixie often looked nervous, but more so than usual. It was like something was eating at her deep down inside and she was looking for something to distract her from it. Elwurd reached out under the table and took her hand — a hand that was shaking faintly. Chixie smiled, but it was the same smile she’d had a half-sweep ago — the same faintly-haunted, too-quick smile.

“I’m fine. Just… I’m just worried.”

That was fair, but it left a lot of ground between _I’m fine_ and how she looked. Elwurd leaned in and put her mouth next to Chixie’s ear.

“It’s okay if you wanna talk… I’m… I’m here for you.” A sudden thought flashed in her mind and she took a quick breath. “I love you.”

Chixie’s face went all bronze with embarrassment and she smiled, just a little bit. “I know, El… it’s really fine. We can talk after this, okay?”

The door to the meeting room banged open and Polypa walked in briskly, followed closely by a very-nervous-looking Bronya. Polya looked… she looked _angry,_ actually. Not angry at Bronya or anyone else there, but angry at _something._ They had been in the middle of a conversation — one that Bronya was trying to continue.

“What I was saying was that we can’t just run into things! Polypa — we have to 1 — be very careful and methodical, so we don’t risk ourselves too much, 2 — have to be mindful of the fact that we don’t have many people here, and 3 — acknowledge that, maybe, the Empire has a lot more resources than us!”

Polypa was shaking and clenching her fist tightly. “I don’t care. We’re going to be dead inside of a sweep if we don’t do this — a half-sweep, even.” She shook her head and clenched her teeth. “Fuck! It was my fault for not thinking of this earlier! We needed to be dealing with this from the beginning, not once we realized it’s too fucking late!”

Bronya looked like she wanted to say something else, but she shrank back and took her place to Polypa’s right at the table. Polypa paced and and forth, shaking her head and frowning. When she stopped and turned to face the rest of them, there was an expression of anger on her face… but there was fear there as well.

“I’m gonna just jump right to it — there’s a database that tells all the drones where to do searches and fly-overs for potential recruits and shit like that. This place — the location of this cavern… it’s still on it.”

Elwurd felt a little twist in her gut — she glanced over instinctively at Chixie and saw tears welling up in her eyes. Around the table, everyone was reacting.

Daraya swore and banged a fist into the table. “What the _fuck?!_ ”

Cirava said “this is bullshit” and looked to their left, then their right. “You know this is bullshit, right?!”

Lanque leaned back and frowned, looking toward the exit.

Bronya fidgeted nervously, her eyes downcast — she had already known what Polypa was going to say.

Lynera — sitting between Daraya and Bronya — looked nervously between the other two jades.

Elwurd squeezed Chixie’s hand — the one she was _still_ holding under the table — and looked up at Polypa. “You’re just telling us this _now?!_ This seems pretty fucking important.”

Bronya stammered and spoke up — “It’s not like that!” But Polypa waved a hand, cutting her off.

“It’s my fault. I never considered the drone scanning registry. I thought that because this wasn’t a registered cavern we’d be safe, but I forgot that they’ll do a flyover every sweep or so and check for anything unusual. A sudden heat signature in the middle of the wastes? People possibly coming and going? Those are unusual. Once they check us out specifically, then…” She trailed off, but she didn’t _need_ to finish the sentence. They all knew what would happen next.

Polypa sighed and looked at each of them. “I know this hasn’t gone exactly the way we all expected. Maybe we were thinking that a lot of people would start just… showing up for our cause. And yeah, we had luck with stuff like Chixie’s outreach into the city. But we also had… setbacks…” She didn’t mention Mallek, but Elwurd knew who she meant. “But we need to deal with this. No matter how small we are, we’re still… we’re all in this together.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lanque interrupted. “I’d prefer not to just sit here and wait to die. Or to see if we can risk everything on some foolish plan that I’m sure you’re about to present to us.” He scowled.

“Lanque! You can’t be serious!” Bronya looked at him and shook her head. “We’re all listed by the Empire! If you try to go out there for too long… you’ll be culled for sure.”

“Is that true, Bronya?” Lanque asked, his face impassive. “Because it seems like the only ones of us who’re really on the Empire’s scope are Stelsa and Tyzias. Why would they even know who the rest of us are?”

Elwurd cleared her throat. “Weren’t you supposed to go offworld? And according to records you’re a jade blood in a cavern that had all of its occupants killed a half-sweep ago. If you want to try your luck with the drones, go ahead. Personally… I’d say we listen to what the person with actual experience has to say, yeah?”

He glowered at her, but Lanque didn’t say anything besides a begruding “fine” and left it at that. Polypa nodded.

“Thanks. I’ve been talking to Cirava about this and… I think there’s a solution. Cirava?” She pointed to the gold blood, who stood up and sniffled before they started speaking. Elwurd felt a tinge of hope starting to rise up inside of her.

“Sure. The drones all work off a central registry that’s handled out of the Green Moon.” The hope died immediately.

“What the fuck?” Daraya asked quickly. “We can’t get up there! It’s the Fleet’s main fucking base are you fucking kidding me?!” That feeling was becoming a sour pit in Elwurd’s stomach. She squeezed Chixie’s hand again — the bronze blood was silently crying next to her, her face twisted into a look of despair. She mouthed the word “no.”

“Good news!” Cirava smiled. “We don’t _have_ to! Every Imperial depot that hooks into the inventory control system technically has a line back up to the registry… sort of. It’ll take some doing, but if you can get me about a couple hours inside of an Army depot I can cook something up that’ll fuck half the system up.”

“I don’t see how that helps,” Lanque groaned. “Won’t they just bring it back up or something?”

That grin on Cirava’s face was spreading — they nodded. “Yep! Which is why I slip a modified copy of the drone scan registry into their backup. They replace it, think that everything’s good, and don’t even think to check to see if one little patch of the Wastes happens to not be there anymore.”

Elwurd smiled — it was, it seemed, actually a good plan. But she could see one major problem — “Wait a minute? You said you have to be inside of the Army depot?”

“Yeah,” Polypa interrupted. “That’s the catch. We’ll need to hit a depot and actually…” she took a deep breath. “We’ll have to actually clear it out.”

Elwurd saw Daraya furrow her brows and she felt her own stomach churning. Next to her, Chixie let out another quiet “no” and shook her head.

“I know it’s not pleasant but… at this point we don’t have much of a choice. But there _is_ a way to do this. The Army depot we hit a couple cycles ago — it’s connected to the supply network but it’s small enough we should be able to secure it. From last time I’d say… maybe they have at most a dozen personnel assigned there. Inexperienced, most likely.”

A look passed between the rest of them as they realized fully what Polypa was talking about.

“I’m not going to lie — this is gonna be ugly. I’m talking about killing a lot of people.” She sighed. “But, yeah, this is the only way we can guarantee the drones won’t come here and slaughter all of us… including the grubs we’re starting to hatch.”

Daraya made a face and lowered her eyes. Next to her, Lynera reached over and put her arms around her shoulders and squeezed slightly. Daraya half-smiled and nodded, whispering something that Elwurd couldn’t hear.

“I’m not going to force anyone to do this. The only people absolutely necessary are me and Cirava and we’ve already talked about it… but I could probably use help. Anyone who wants to come along… you should know that this isn’t a guaranteed thing.”

“No…” Chixie whispered again, too low for the others to properly hear.

Elwurd raised her hand — what else was she going to do? Sit around and wait for them all to die? Try to run off on her own? Abandon everyone the way she’d always done in the past? _I can be different. I am different._

“Fuck it, I’ll do it,” she said. “I know how to shoot a gun.” She felt Chixie squeeze her hand and saw the bronze blood shaking her head, a desperate, pleading look in her eyes.

Daraya sighed heavily and shook her head. “I’ll go too… not like this is gonna make things any worse than they already are.” Next to her, Lynera’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Okay, that’s better than I thought, actually,” Polypa said thoughtfully. “I’m hoping Stelsa and Tyzias will come along too, assuming they get back here in time. We’ll need to move quickly — I’m talking like tomorrow evening, no later.”

Elwurd grit her teeth and didn’t say anything. _What the fuck did I just volunteer for?!_

* * *

Chixie was quiet the whole meeting, but as soon as they stepped out of the meeting chamber, she grabbed Elwurd’s arm. “El, I need to talk to you about this. Right now.”

Elwurd sighed. “I know it’s a risk, Chix. I really do, but… I don’t think they’re gonna be able to do this with like three people.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Come back to my room with me and we can talk.”

Elwurd shrugged and followed Chixie in silence, down the stairs into the living quarters of the cavern. When they walked inside, Chixie immediately shut the door, walked over, and wrapped her arms around Elwurd. She buried her head against Elwurd’s shoulder and Elwurd could hear her sobbing.

“Chix… I’m sorry… I’m gonna be careful. Just… we don’t have another—”

“I know. I mean… we don’t have another way right now. But there’s another way to do this.”

Elwurd linked her hands behind Chixie’s back and held her softly, focusing on the feeling of her chest slowly rising and falling as she breathed in and out. “What is it? If you’ve thought of something, I’m not gonna object.”

Chixie shook her head slowly. “I… I can’t tell you.”

Elwurd felt a flash of anger — _that’s not very fucking helpful! — but she held it back. “Chix… why not?”_

 __

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she said with a long sigh. “But if I try to explain it, things won’t make sense… and somehow it won’t work right. I don’t know how else to say it. Just… a feeling that things have to be a certain way. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

__

“It’s okay,” Elwurd said. She bent her neck down and kissed Chixie near the base of her horns. She sighed and squeezed Elwurd tighter. “I know it’s a lot right now.”

__

“Yeah, it is,” she said quietly. She didn’t say anything more for a while — a lengthening silence that felt strangely fragile. When she spoke again, her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “El… can I ask you something?”

__

“Yeah, of course,” Elwurd responded without waiting.

__

“That… that thing that I talked about before. About trying… uh… red stuff with you.” She stopped and Elwurd heard her swallow. “I’d like to try it. Just… if this is how everything is gonna be, I’d like to at least do that one thing, you know?”

__

“You sure about that?” Elwurd kissed her by the base of the horn again. “You’re not saying this because you think I’m gonna die or something?”

__

“No,” Chixie replied — and she wasn’t lying. “I mean… I’m afraid of that. But I also want this. You know what I mean?”

__

“Yeah, I think I do.” Elwurd let go of the hug and took a half-step back, still holding her hands on Chixie’s arms. Chixie’s face was bleary with tears, but she was smiling. “Okay, as long as you’re okay with this.”

__

* * *

__

The loungeplank along the side of the room wasn’t especially large, but it was large enough for what they were doing. Chixie sat, looking nervous, shaking a little bit. Eldwurd stood in front of her, looking down and smiling.

__

“You sure you’re good with this?” Elwurd asked, her face momentarily growing serious. “Because if you don’t want to, I’m fine with doing something else.”

__

She shook her head. “No, I want to do this. Just… at least to see.” She smiled up at Elwurd, reached down, and pulled her sweater off in one motion, tossing it aside. “See?”

__

She grinned and Elwurd laughed. “Okay, well… now I’m sold.” She knelt down and leaned in to kiss Chixie, cupping the side of her face gently. Something inside her told her that this was, somehow, a defining moment in their relationship. _I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable._ A sweep ago… a half-sweep ago, Elwurd didn’t think she would’ve been this careful.

__

Chixie leaned into the kiss eagerly, and Elwurd closed her eyes. _Don’t be an ass about this._

__

She felt a hand at her stomach, running up under her shirt. Quickly, Elwurd put her own hand on top of it, and Chixie immediately pulled back from the kiss.

__

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”

__

Elwurd smiled. “No, just… once more, are you sure about this? We only have to go as far as you want.”

__

Chixie nodded. “Yes.”

__

“Okay.” She let go of the hand, and Chixie slid it up under her shirt. In spite of herself, Elwurd let out a small moan. _Yeah, way to play it cool._ But Chixie laughed — a light, musical sound that warmed Elwurd’s pusher to hear.

__

“Sorry, I’ve just never… never actually _enjoyed_ doing this before, you know?”

__

Elwurd felt a pang hearing that — a fervent wish that she could’ve been in a different position in her life. That she could’ve met this woman earlier in both their lives. That maybe things would’ve turned out differently. She closed her eyes and smiled. Regardless, they were both here now, and maybe that was enough.

__

She moved closer and kissed Chixie again, letting her tongue touch the other woman’s lips and linger. This time, Chixie let out a noise that was halfway between a moan and groan from deep inside her throat. Chixie’s hands kept moving along her stomach, her ribs, gently exploring her body in a way that felt so much more _intimate_ than she’d been expecting.

__

_I’m not going to hurt this woman._

__

There was a time when that would’ve been a lie — not out of some great malice, but from the simple fact that she was so worried about making herself feel better that she would disregard everything that made her partners unhappy or uncomfortable. Did that make her an innately bad person? Elwurd didn’t think so.

__

But it certainly hadn’t made her a _good_ person.

__

Chixie’s hands reached an especially sensitive spot and stayed there, warm and soft. Elwurd reached out and ran her hand down along Chixie’s next, feeling the bronze blood shiver slightly in response.

__

_I’m not going to hurt this woman._

__

And she didn’t.

__


	42. Gravity Well

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 1725 AUT

Ardata felt the tug of acceleration on her chest as the Iustitia burned toward the planet — the ship wasn’t really designed for hard-gravity maneuvering, but the alternative was being picked apart by drones… that wasn’t a choice that Ardata was going to make. She imagined that if the battle was taking place in an atmosphere, it would be a flurry of noise — the sound of the auto-cannons blasting at the drones and the drones firing their heavy bolt-guns back. But out here in the void, everything was a silent dance that would eventually end in the drones being destroyed… or her crew being killed.

Sometimes, she would hear the sound of an impact reverberating through the hull — the sign that something had struck the ship, and possibly caused the damage that would seal their fate. There was no way to tell — no sense worrying about it until they had survived.

“Ma’am, hostiles are still engaging — we’ve lost three turrets!” The voice of the jade blood Lieutenant who was serving as the tactical officer. “Systems are having trouble targeting the drones.”

_Of course they are. Fucking things are too small._ The Iustitia had been designed for planetary assault and combat with other, similarly large ships. It had a complement of intercept craft on board, but it would take time to prepare them to scramble after the chaos involved in Amisia’s take-over of the ship. Ardata cursed the stupid fucking indigo and her need to involve herself in the power struggle that was the Alternian Empire — they were going to die because of that arrogance.

“Status on interceptors?” Ardata called out.

The jade blood glanced down at her console and tapped in a quick command. “Five minutes until we can launch the first wave.”

“Fuck.” That wasn’t a long time, but it could be forever while they were under active attack. “Helm — drop us into the edge of the planetary gravity.”

There wasn’t a verbal response — the woman who was now her helmsman was plugged directly into the ship now. Instead, there was a kind of surge of energy and the Iustitia immediately began to shift. Ardata felt herself pulled against the restraints as the carrier dropped down. The Iustitia hadn’t been built as an atmosphere-capable spaceship, but the conversion to an assault carrier had given it at least the capability of operating in low orbit. It was a delicate balance — too close and they’d be pulled in.

A hard rumbling blast shook the carrier and the jade blood called out — “Just took a hit in one of our torpedo magazines. Blast doors sealed it off!”

“Have fire control prep our first rack of torpedoes and target with a wide spread — anything they can hit.” She knew that the drones would be too small for the torpedoes to be particularly effective, but it was worth a shot. At least it would slow them down for a short while… maybe.

“Yes, ma’am — fire control is targeting now.” A short pause, and Ardata swore she could feel the rush of the torpedoes as they left their launch tubes. Probably not, given how large the Iustitia was. “First rack is away.”

“Prep the second rack.” The Iustitia had a total of five racks of torpedoes, spread through launch tubes all around the ship. Once they were exhausted, that would be it until they could resupply. Given what was happening in the Empire, she doubted that would be an option.

“Yes, ma’am.” The jade blood paused. “Minimal effect on the first volley. Fire control reports two confirmed hits and possible damage on a few more.”

_Fuck!_ But that was about what she expected. The explosions from the warheads might catch a few drones, but there were far too many to make a meaningful difference.

“Fire the second rack!” Ardata yelled, gripping the edges of her chair hard enough that her knuckles turned white. She barely heard the jade’s acknowledgement of her order. She hadn’t been in actual combat since she was a Sub-Commander on a gunship assigned to patrol the shipping lanes to the frontier and intercept pirates. She’d seen plenty of action during that time — had plenty of close calls… but the gunship was nothing like the massive bulk of the Iustitia.

“Ma’am, interceptors are ready to scramble!” That was good news at least.

“Do it!” Ardata growled. “Have them try to draw the drones down toward the planet.” Unlike the Iustitia, the interceptors were designed to be equally maneuverable in the atmosphere — if they could leverage the gravity against the drones’ weaker thrusters, they might have a chance of peeling some of them off.

The jade blood relayed the orders into the comm system, talking directly to the wing commander that was scrambling with the fighters. After Amisia’s boarding, Ardata wasn’t even sure who was in charge anymore. She wasn’t even sure if she’d have a second wave of fighters available if the first one failed.

Ardata scowled at her command console. “How many hostiles are left? My scope’s all over the place.”

“We don’t know, ma’am — at least fifty… probably a lot more.”

Ardata’s eyes went wide. _That’s too fucking many! They’re going to pick us apart!_ “Helm, bring us down into low orbit.”

Once more, the pull of acceleration gripped her and Ardata clung to the seat. As the burn slowed down, something heavy hit the ship — the impact rocked through the structure.

The jade blood sounded terrified now — “Ma’am, drones are landing on the hull!”

It wasn’t possible — for the drones to come in so precisely and so quickly while they were under a hard burn like this. There was no way that the operators’ equipment would be able to maintain that level of precision — the systems lag alone would make it almost impossible.

_Unless they’re not being operated remotely._

There wasn’t really a good way to get the fucking things _off_ the hull.

“Helm — increase burn.” She turned to the jade blood. “Lieutenant, tell our fighters to focus on the drones on the hull — some collateral damage is fine as long as they don’t kill our key systems.”

The sensation of false gravity hit once more as the Iustitia pushed itself closer and closer to that threshold where it would be impossible to keep themselves from falling planetside.

“Ma’am! A second wave just engaged! Another fifty drones!” the Lieutenant’s voice was verging on raw panic now. “We just lost two interceptors!”

Another blast running through the hull.

“We just lost a primary thruster!”

_Why are they attacking the thrusters?_ Ardata tapped through the damage control readout. “Have damage control redirect all power to the remaining thrusters!” _They’re not trying to destroy us — they’re trying to disable us. They’re fucking PLAYING with us. SHE’S playing with us…_

They needed to get out of low orbit.

“Helm — on my mark, send us into an evasive spin and climb to high orbit.” _It was going to suck to do that — probably they would pass out… but Folkyl wouldn’t, plugged in like she was._ Ardata turned back to the Lieutenant. “Have fire control launch all remaining torpedoes in a spread with proximity detonation.”

“Ma’am, we’ve still got fighters out!” The jade’s voice was shaking.

“I fucking _know that!_ Do it!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The jade started relaying the commands. Ardata grimaced, grit her teeth, and spoke to the helmsman.

“Helm — do it now!”

The Iustitia lurched and Ardata felt herself twisting as she was thrown against her restraints. She’d done this once while she was commanding the gunship.

She’d passed out then too.

* * *

Somehow, Ardata knew she would wake up in that place. In the city of endless shadows — the place where the dead came to rest. She opened her eyes, and she was staring up at the now-familiar ceiling. The four posts of the strange loungeplank curved slightly inward, giving them the appearance of claws that curled in on her. If she looked up, she knew that she would see the carving of a skull above her — the symbol of the death she’d allowed to happen.

From the shadows of the room, she heard a deep voice.

“It’s been a long time, Commander Carmia.”

She sat up in an instant, staring straight ahead, unbelieving.

Sitting in a high-backed chair off to the side of the room was High Imperator Petrus Occsor.

Ardata shoved herself back up on the loungeplank and screamed — every ounce of energy now devoted to getting away from this spectre that haunted her nightmare world. Petrus stood up from the chair, the sound of it sliding back so incredibly _real_ even in this dreamscape. Ardata screamed.

“Shut the fuck up.” Petrus said calmly. “You’re just as weak and insufferable here as you were when I knew you in the waking world.”

He didn’t move to approach her — Ardata pushed herself back up against the wall behind the lougeplank. “What the hell are you doing here?!” It was an asinine question to ask in a dream… but somehow it felt like the question she was supposed to ask. Something about this felt… wrong.

Petrus laughed — a sound she didn’t want to hear again. “I’ve been here since before you were hatched, you foolish grub. So many times I’ve watched you sleep in this place — wondered if you would ever wake up.”

“What the fuck?!” Something was wrong… the edges of the dream felt too clear… too _real._ “What the fuck are you talking about?! What the fuck _are_ you?!”

Petrus sighed and shook his head. “I had at least some hope that you might eventually see things the way I did. If you woke up in time… if we had a chance to speak like this.” Petrus waved his hands around. “Sadly, you woke only after I lost my ability to traverse the waking world… and you seem to have developed some profoundly incorrect beliefs about the nature of this place.”

He sat back down heavily and sighed. “You seek to punish yourself for your role in doing what was necessary. A ridiculous concept, fit only for a wiggler.”

She looked out the window… this place didn’t really look like the city of Everdim… didn’t really resemble a dreamscape, when she really paid attention. It was too clear to be a dream, even if her memories of it on waking were often hazy and unclear. She knew for a fact that she’d never noticed Petrus there before.

“Where are we?” Ardata asked, her voice quiet. She wanted more than anything to leave this place.

Petrus shrugged. “The inhabitants call it _Derse,_ although I don’t know what that means. I’ve been in contact with several of them for many sweeps… although I think time means something different here than it does in our world.”

Ardata shivered, though it was hard up in this tower. _How did I know I was in a tower?_

“I had once hoped you would awaken and serve me as my Bard… as the instrument of my will both in the waking world and on Derse. There is _so_ much that needs to be accomplished.” Petrus frowned and tapped a finger thoughtfully on his chair. “No… that implies this is a singular task rather than the eternal, ongoing struggle that it really is.”

“What do you _want_ from me?!” Ardata’s voice cracked as she screamed at the High Imperator.

“I don’t want anything from _you…_ your role in this place simply facilitates what I’ve always wanted.” He scowled. “The preservation and continuation of our Empire. Of our people. There are those who would seek to destroy that security in the name of such vague concepts as _freedom_ or _self-determination._ Those are illusions. This place—” he waved a hand around the room — “is proof of that. Everyone here has their specific place… their role to play. And their roles all serve the end of facilitating the destruction of our grand Empire once and for all.”

He sighed. “But… I can turn them into agents of stability. To ensure that they hold their own conflict at an eternal stalemate… to ensure that our own world is preserved.”

She could barely imagine it — the casual way that he’d wiped hundreds of thousands of lives out of existence. In the name of, what, preserving an Empire built on the bones of its own people?

“I won’t help you with this,” Ardata said plainly.

Petrus shrugged. “I know that. I don’t really need your help anymore, anyway. And if the whispers I’ve been hearing are true, then the Empress had plans that even I wasn’t aware of. Maybe trying to truly take the mantle of Condescension.” He made a short _hmph_ noise. “The one person I was ever truly afraid of. Pity that our vapid, shallow husk of an Empress was able to kill her. But… maybe she’ll grow into the role yet.”

“If you don’t want anything from me, why are you even here?!”

“Because I have some vain hope that perhaps you’ll still see the importance of this place… of maintaining the order we’ve worked so hard to build. In whatever small way… even if it means you sacrificing your waking self to stop that ridiculous revolutionary movement from ever gaining ground.”

“No fucking way — I’m done playing into your fucking games,” Ardata said in a low voice. “And then I’d just be stuck in here with you, right? That’s how this works?”

“Fine… suit yourself. I don’t expect we’ll speak again.” Petrus stood up and walked to the door to the chamber, slowly opening it. “Never forget that I hold power in this place. I will allow you to exist… provided you never interfere with me.” With that, he stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Ardata felt the world getting hazy around her — the boundaries curling up on themselves and pulling inward and—

* * *

Ardata opened her eyes, still strapped into her restraints, and the sensation of movement was gone. Instead, only the sensation of weightlessness. Nearby, she could hear the sound of the jade blood Lieutenant sobbing quietly to herself.

The ship’s emergency lighting had cut on. Something had happened.

“Lieutenant…” Ardata struggled to raise her voice. “What the fuck happened? How long was I out?” They weren’t dead, at least. Maybe the plan had worked.

“Ma’am…” The jade blood sniffled and tried to regain her composure. “We’re drifting just shy of high orbit. All thrusters have been destroyed and we’ve got venting on half the engineering decks.”

Ardata struggled through the haze of the other world — the world she now knew was called _Derse_ — to try to understand. “What do you mean?! Are the drones still attacking?!”

“No… they all pulled back as soon as they disabled the thrusters.”

_Of course they did. Because that’s all they needed to do._

“How much longer do we have?” Ardata asked. Inside, all she felt was a kind of hopeless hollow that threatened to expand until it consumed her.

“A cycle? I’m not sure… most of our systems are operating at emergency levels only.”

“The interceptors?”

The jade blood sighed. “All destroyed. By the drones or… by our torpedoes.”

Ardata nodded — she’d been ready for that possibility, but it still stung to hear it. “Fine. Any chance of us getting to a transport and getting out of here?”

The jade blood shook her head. “I don’t know… I don’t think so… most of the lower decks have serious damage. We… a couple of our torpedoes went rogue and hit us. We’re lucky we were burning or we would’ve fallen into the planetary gravity.”

_Of course._

Ardata glowered at the command console in front of her — it was showing what information it had at a reduced brightness, to conserve every drop of energy possible.

“Fine,” Ardata said at least. “Let’s unbutton and see where the fuck we can go from here.”

Ardata unhooked her restraints and felt herself drift up — the gravity generator wouldn’t be coming back online under emergency power… even if it was still undamaged. She pushed off and drifted through the bridge, looking down at the still-unconscious form of Mallek. As she floated past Amisia, the high blood glared at her.

“What the hell do we do now?!” Amisia snapped at her. “This is all your fault.”

“So?” Ardata asked. “What are you going to do about it? Kill me? Kill the rest of my crew?” She laughed. “We’re basically a ghost ship now, high blood. You might want to get used to it.”


	43. Travelers

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Southern Wastes - 0719 local time (2219 AUT)

For hours, they’d waited in the stinking darkness of the runoff drain, hearing the sounds of chaos above them. Gradually, it had faded slowly into the distance… then, eventually, it had stopped. They waited another hour and hesitantly came up out of the drain and made their way toward the underground passage that eventually led out of the city.

The soldiers weren’t a problem. Not anymore. Everywhere, they saw the evidence of what had happened — the spent casings from their weapons… the pock-marks from explosions… and the bodies strewn everywhere. They saw a few civilians — trolls walking around in a daze trying to figure out what had just happened — but they didn’t see a single living member of the Alternian Army.

In the end, Stelsa and Tyzias had simply walked right out the front gate of the city, making their way out into the Southern Wastes and back toward home. After a couple hours of walking, the sun finally dipped low enough that they could pull back the hoods to their thick traveling cloaks. It certainly made conversation easier — Tyzias had been quiet the whole way out and Stelsa hoped that maybe she would open up a little bit if it was easier to talk.

It was a silly thing to think — Stelsa knew that even as the idea entered her head. Her matesprit’s reluctance to talk had nothing whatsoever to do with the heavy cloak or the oppressive heat and everything to do with what they’d just witnessed. Stelsa was having a hard time processing it herself — she hadn’t known Konyyl well at all, but to see her and the others cut down so casually.

“Zizi?” she asked hesitantly. “Are you doing okay?”

Tyzias looked over and shrugged noncommittally. “I guess. Sure.” And then back to silence, trudging along the hard-pack of the Wastes. She sighed and dug her palmhusk out of her pocket.

s_sezyat began chatting with vengefulSpirit at 0721 AST (2221 AUT)

Stelsa

WE NEED TO TALK

Daraya

▼Whoa shit, Tyz and I are just moirails!▼

▲Uh… well, I think we are?▼   
▲I hope we are.▼

▲Point being I’m not red for your matesprit or anything!▼

Stelsa

I KNOW THAT!   
I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH YOU AND TYZIAS!   
IN FACT, THAT’S WHY I’M TALKING TO YOU

Daraya

▲Wait… what?▼   
▲What exactly do you mean?▼

Stelsa

TYZIAS IS…   
SHE’S ACTING VERY STRANGELY   
OBVIOUSLY SHE’S BEEN HURT BY WHAT HAPPENED BUT…

HOW DO I TALK TO HER?   
HOW DO I GET HER TO OPEN UP?

Daraya

▲I mean, she’s YOUR matesprit...▼

▼Sorry, that sounds mean...▼   
▲I mean, she cares about you! Just talk to her!▼

▲She just kinda started telling me about how you met each other again after you were separated.▼   
▲idk, just talk!▼

Stelsa put the palmhusk away and sighed. Walking up next to Tyzias, she reached out and took her hand — Tyzias frowned, but she didn’t move away or try to pull free. That was a good sign, at least.

“Hey,” Tyzias said softly. “What’s up?”

Stelsa sighed — she didn’t want to patronize Tyzias. Not only would her matesprit see right through anything underhanded, she didn’t feel right doing it. But she really, genuinely wanted to reach out to her… so she made a decision in that moment to simply be honest with her.

“I just want to talk to you, Zizi. It doesn’t have to be about anything in particular. Just… I just want to talk.” She was trying, but not entirely succeeding, to keep the desperate pleading out of her voice. Tyzias looked closely at her, and her expression softened.

“Okay, Stels. We can talk.”

Stelsa smiled. “Daraya told me that you were telling her about how we met each other again…” She saw Tyzias tense up and squeezed her hand softly. “It’s fine, Zizi.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” Tyzias smiled faintly. “The, uh… the clean version, I guess.”

Stelsa couldn’t help herself — she laughed. Laughed, then snorted just a little bit and clapped a hand to her mouth.

“I haven’t heard you do that in a _while_ , Stels,” Tyzias said, smiling. “You okay there?”

Stelsa nodded and smiled — it was hard to keep the feeling of almost oppressive sadness out of her voice. “I guess I’ve been… I’ve been a bit affected by everything that’s been happening lately.”

Tyzias didn’t respond — just rubbed the inside of her palm softly and nodded. “I know, Stels.”

A few beats of silence, and Stelsa smiled. “The clean version, huh? So I suppose you didn’t tell her the _other_ firsts?”

Tyzias blushed. “N-no! And I’m not planning to either.”

“Our little secret, huh?” Stelsa leaned in, smiling, and Tyzias laughed lightly.

“Yeah, I guess so. I was… I was really nervous. You know that, right?” She half-smiled and blushed. “A little bit terrified.”

“Really?!” Stelsa adopted a look of mock surprise. “I seem to recall you being quite… proactive.”

“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t nervous! I’d never been naked around someone else, much less…” Tyzias gestured vaguely with her hand. “You know.” She lapsed into silence again, and her face grew dark. “Stels?”

“Yes, Zizi?”

Tyzias looked up at the sky — up toward the twinkling stars and the moons hanging in the sky. When she spoke again, her eyes were fixed out on some distant point that Stelsa couldn’t determine. “You ever just stop and wonder how the fuck we even got to where we are now? Like, how we went from fumbling nervously with each other on a loungeplank to chasing down Imperial secrets and hiding while…” She sighed. “All this death, Stels. How the fuck do we go back from all of that? You know something that Daraya wanted to talk to me about?”

Stelsa made a quiet _hmm?_ noise.

“She wanted to know if I’d ever had to kill someone. Wanted to know how to deal with that. What can I even say to that? Even if I _had_ ever done that, what would I be able to say about it? _Don’t worry, kid — it gets easier the second time?_ ” Tyzias frowned. “Is it stupid that part of me hoped that we’d actually see the end of all of this one day? That we could just… not deal with it anymore.”

It didn’t sound like something stupid to Stelsa — she leaned in and bumped her shoulder up against Tyzias’ and pulled her arm in across her chest.

“I don’t think so, Zizi. I don’t think having some hope for the future makes you stupid.”

Tyzias let out a sigh that seemed to deflate her whole body. “I guess. Just… I keep thinking about everything we’re seeing. How long is it before there’s another monster like Petrus? Or those fucking drones we saw… whatever the plan for those things is.” Tyzias stopped, and her face turned thoughtful. “I guess they’re probably going to be working on some plan to get our cavern out of the drone scanning registry… hmmm…” Tyzias frowned. “Hold on, let me ask Daraya something…”

Stelsa let go of her hand, and Tyzias pulled out her own palmhusk and began to type. A minute later, her frown had deepened.

“Daraya says that they’re heading to that Army depot now. Her, Cirava, Polypa, and Elwurd.” The look on Tyzias’ face was worrying.

“Zizi? What is it?”

“I don’t like this at all. What if something happens? What if those fucking _drones_ show up? We saw what they’re like… they weren’t even taking a scratch.”

“I’m sure they’ll be careful.” The words turned to ashes as soon as they touched her tongue, and she saw Tyzias flinch.

“I know they will! That’s not the point! You can be as careful as can be and still fucking die!” Tyzias was starting to cry — her face twisted down into a grimace. “I don’t want the people I care about getting picked off! Not Daraya, not you…”

“Zizi, I’m right here.” Stelsa reached around Tyzias’ shoulders and squeezed tight. They stopped walking — Stelsa pulled Tyzias into an embrace and tucked her matesprit up against her shoulder. She could feel the soft movement of Tyzias’ chest as she sobbed quietly into her shoulder.

It hurt so much. It hurt to see her matesprit like this… hurt so much to see everything piling up and driving down on them without mercy. She almost envied the time when she was able to ignore all of this — to pretend that things could be normal, even inside of the beast that was the Alternian Empire. But she couldn’t have kept that up forever — sooner or later, it would start to hurt too much… would start to work its way under her skin and she wouldn’t be able to get it out again. There would be an itch that would grow into a festering sore that would, eventually, eat her alive.

She couldn’t turn off her ability to care about people… and she knew Tyzias couldn’t either. It was one of the reasons she loved her matesprit so dearly.

She bent over to kiss Tyzias on the forehead. “I love you so much, Zizi. You know that, right?”

Tyzias nodded slightly. “I know…”

A long pause — the two of them held each other under the glow of the sky. Finally, Tyzias muttered softly. “I’m so worried… why does it feel like they’re all going to die doing this? Nothing is going to change… they’re going to die… and we’re all gonna be picked off one at a time until there’s no one left.” She was crying again. “Stels… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Zizi, I’m sure—” She wanted so very much to be able to tell her matesprit _I’m sure they’ll be okay_ but the words were a leaden lie on her tongue — a falsehood she couldn’t in good conscience spread beyond the confines of the denial that she tried to desperately to cling to in her soul. Something she didn’t truly believe, and never could.

“You can’t say it, can you?” Tyzias sighed and nuzzled down further against Stelsa’s shoulder. “You can’t tell me it’s gonna be okay, because you don’t believe it. Because it’s not.”

“Zizi…”

“It’s fine,” Tyzias muttered. “I don’t _want_ you to lie to me like I’m some wiggler you’re reassuring about rainbow drinkers or some shit. I know things are bad… you trying to say otherwise wouldn’t make me feel better… it’d just make me trust you less.”

“Okay.” Stelsa gathered her matesprit up in her arms — held her close and smelled the faint scent of sweat that clung to her. A smell that held so many different meanings to her, good and bad. They needed to get back to the caverns — needed to find out exactly what had been happening while they were stuck in Hivefield. Needed to know what the plan was for dealing with these new drones — the ones with the matte black armor that sounded like living things.

“It was after that first time together…” Tyzias mumbled, trailing off. “That was the first time I told you I loved you. And I still remember how that felt. It wasn’t something that I ever said without meaning it. You know that, right?”

Stelsa held her matesprit and she didn’t want to let go of her. Of course they had miles still to go and so many things to do once they arrived at their destination, but if she could she would choose instead to exist inside of this moment, forever.

“I do.”

“Good. It’s still true… and I still don’t say it without meaning it.”

“I know.”

For a while longer, Stelsa held Tyzias in her arms, cradling her and rocking slowly back and forth in place under the stars. After that while, they began to walk again, hand-in-hand, back toward the caverns.

Above them, in the sky where they couldn’t see, the Iustitia drifted, lost in the darkness.

And beyond that sky, something else sat, patiently.

Waiting.

Watching.

For as long as it would take.


	44. Firebird

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

outside the Alternian Army depot, the Southern Wastes - 0732 local time (2232 AUT)

The deercats were hitched up a good fifty yards away, securely tucked away behind one of the many rock formations that dotted the Wastes. Far enough away that they wouldn’t spook too much if anyone started shooting, but close enough that a good sprint would get them to their mounts if they needed to run.

The four of them were set up behind another set of rocks, closer to the Army depot — Polypa had already set up her anti-drone rifle on a sandbag, while the others all sat nearby with Army-issue rifles, waiting. Daraya got a strange sense of deja vu running through her — the way that they were huddled for cover… the way that Polypa checked the sighting on the massive rifle. Everything felt so familiar — familiar to how they’d first hit the depot. Familiar to how they’d approached Hivefield.

Daraya shuddered — the image of the teal-blood’s head evaporating into a mass of gristle and gore kept forcing itself into her mind. She couldn’t even close her eyes against the sight — it was living inside of her mind’s eye now.

Polypa slid down from her sniper’s perch, making sure to keep herself low so as not to silhouette herself against the sky. Even though night had properly set in already, the moons were both out in full.

“Okay, I still want to observe for a bit longer to make sure, but it looks like we’ve got about four fireteams on rotating shifts — that’s sixteen soldiers in total. Nothing we can’t handle.”

Daraya wasn’t sure how Polypa figured that a complement of soldiers four times their size counted as “nothing we can’t handle” but she also trusted Polypa’s judgment as someone with significantly more experience in this kind of situation. Polypa motioned to Cirava, who walked over and handed her a large, rugged portable tablet they’d been holding. Polypa quickly pulled up an image on the screen — it looked like an overhead view of the area they were in.

“Cirava was able to get us into a backdoor in one of the Fleet overwatch drone networks. They’re older models, so the resolution is bad, but they’re equipped with thermal cameras.” She zoomed in on the complex. “You can see here where the barracks are — that’ll be most of the people on duty. One more in the command center next door, and three rotating around the compound. If someone sounds the alert, we’ll have the other twelve on top of us in no time. Which, so everyone’s on the same page, is definitely going to happen when I fire up that rifle up there.”

Elwurd, crouched next to Daraya, frowned and pointed at the screen. “This doesn’t seem like a real great idea. Matter of fact, it seems like a pretty fucking bad idea to me.”

“Oh, I agree,” Polypa said quietly. “It would be an absolutely unworkable plan… except for one little trick that Cirava and I figured out.” She smiled grimly and turned to Cirava, who nodded.

“Yeah,” they said, tapping at the tablet screen. “I figured out a way to sync this thing up with the live-view scope on the rifle… integrate it into the targeting system to overlay the thermal feed from the overwatch drone. Basically, we can see through walls!” Their face was excited, but quickly fell. “Uh… sort of. It’s tricky, but it’s definitely better than nothing.”

Polypa continued — “Yes, exactly. And that rifle up there won’t have any trouble punching right through the flimsy excuse for walls that those Army barracks have. This isn’t a fortified installation — it’s too remote.”

Daraya felt herself perking up — this was actually something that they had at least some change of pulling off!

Then it hit her exactly what would be happening. They’d be picking off over a dozen soldiers… most of them in their sleep. Daraya felt her stomach lurch. She didn’t want to ask the question that came to her mind, but she needed to know — “When?”

“Top of the hour,” Polypa said. “Give me some more time to get things set up. Just take the time to get a little rest… it’s gonna get pretty wild.”

* * *

Minutes later, off to the side and propped up against one of the barren rocks, Daraya sat next to Elwurd and looked up at the stars overhead. The two women didn’t say anything for a while, and Daraya felt like things were almost normal. They weren’t holding rifles and wearing body armor, about to kill a whole bunch of people for the vague chance to keep the caverns from being wiped out. No… they were just two friends sitting together on a clear night.

Daraya didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt like talking — like if she stayed silent that something was going to bottle up inside of her and cause her to start screaming and not be able to stop. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Elwurd.

“So… how’re things with you and Chixie?”

Elwurd shrugged and smiled, and Daraya could see a little cobalt flush in her cheeks. “It’s been… good.” She frowned and her smile faded. “She didn’t want me coming along.”

She balled up a fist and held it in front of her face, then relaxed it and let her hand drop into her lap. “Fuck. I didn’t want to hurt her but… I don’t see how this is gonna work with less than the four of us. No idea where Stelsa and Tyzias are.”

“On their way back to the caverns on foot,” Daraya said. “I talked to Tyzias a little and she’s… she’s not doing great, either.”

Elwurd shook her head slowly. “None of us are doing great, lately. Just feels like one thing right after another, no matter what.”

“Yeah, fucking tell me about it.” Daraya sighed. “Look, I don’t know if you need to hear this or not, but… we’re good with what happened between us, okay?”

Elwurd nodded. “Yeah, I… thanks, Dar. I know I really fucked things up with Bronya and that was on me. But I didn’t want to do the same thing with you… or with Chix.”

“Mmm…” Daraya closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocks. “I keep telling myself that we’ve just gotta get through this one thing. This one more thing. Then something else. I keep wondering if it’s ever going to be the _last_ one-more-thing.”

“No idea.” Elwurd sighed. “But it’s better than the alternative, right?”

Daraya hesitated a moment and thought — was it better than the alternative? As a cloistered jade blood, she’d be assigned to one of the nurseries somewhere… whether it was in space or on one of the colony worlds. She’d be separate from everyone that she knew or cared about — taken from Bronya and Lynera and made to live the rest of her life in isolation. She was sure she’d make new relationships — find some small measure of happiness even cloistered. It was, after all, something of an open secret how lascivious the cloistered jades could get.

But it would be a slow death, and she would never be free. She would never see the women she loved again. And even if she would eventually heal from that — eventually stop feeling the bitter sting of loss… she didn’t want to.

“Yeah, it’s better than the fucking alternative.”

* * *

vengefulSpirit began chatting with ferventnihilist at 0748 AST (2248 AUT)

Daraya

▲Hey, how’re you holding up?▼   
▼▼I’m nervous as fuck and I feel like I’m gonna barf.▼▼

▼We’re going to do the thing in like ten fucking minutes.▼   
▲How do I stop being so fucking nervous?!▼

Tyzias

god i wwwwish i could tell you, daraya   
i just hope that you stay safe

i’mmmm doing…   
i’mmmm alive, i guess   
mmmme and stels are heading back nowwww

Daraya

▲Can I ask you something a little weird?▼

Tyzias

fucking go for it   
can’t be any wwwweirder than anything else i’ve been through the last couple cycles

Daraya

▲Yeah, soo...▼

▲Are we moirails?▼

Tyzias

that’s it? that’s the question you thought wwwwas wwwweird?

that seemmmms like a reasonable thing to ask   
mmmmy answwwwer is — do you wwwwant to be?

Daraya

▲▲▲Yeah, absolutely!▲▲▲   
▲I mean I guess that’d be pretty cool or whatever.▼

Tyzias

i knowwww you can’t see mmmme right nowwww   
but i’mmmm laughing at this

thanks   
i needed that

and yeah if that’s wwwwhat you wwwwant, howwww’re you holding up, mmmmoirail?

Daraya

▲Honestly?▼   
▼▼Like shit. I fucking hate this and I’m terrified.▼▼

▼I just don’t see another way.▼

Tyzias

sommmmetimmmmes there just isn’t one   
sucks, right?

Daraya

▼▼▼Yeah it fucking sucks!▼▼▼

▲Look… I have to go, but...▼   
▲Thanks, Tyz. I appreciate this a lot.▲

Tyzias

anytimmmme… please take care of yourself   
don’t fucking die

No sooner had she put the palmhusk away than Polypa walked over and kicked her boot. “Time to rise and shine, soldier. Let’s fucking do this.”

Daraya pushed herself up and grabbed the rifle that she’d set on the ground. Nearby, Elwurd was doing the same thing, nervously checking and re-checking her gear. Daraya patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll be okay, yeah?” That got Elwurd to at least try to smile. Together, they took their places next to Cirava, below the overlook where Polypa had set up the rifle.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Polypa called down. Cirava looked down at the tablet they were holding and brought up the feed from the overwatch drone. They tapped a couple buttons, and from above Polypa yelled — “Targeting looks good!”

“Well, here goes fucking nothing,” Daraya muttered. She took out her ear protection and slipped it on, followed quickly by Cirava and Elwurd. Then she braced herself and waited.

The experience of being anywhere in the vicinity of the anti-drone rifle when it went off was... distinctive. The wave of pressure from the muzzle blast made Daraya wince, even with the ear protection one. Polypa didn’t seem bothered by it, but she’d had more experience with this kind of thing.

Daraya watched the little screen on the tablet, and there was a massive puff of white on the side of the barracks building, followed by a splay of pixels in the middle of the building and another, smaller puff of white on the other side. She wasn’t quite sure _exactly_ what all of it meant, but she could guess.

“Confirmed hit!” Cirava yelled up to Polypa. “Looks like maybe two down. The rest are waking up.”

“Got it! Taking my second shot!” Polypa swiveled the rifle slightly… and once again the air was distorted with the pressure of the muzzle blast. Once again, a puff of white, and this time it bowled into the troll-shaped blobs of white clustered to one side of the barracks, probably where they stored their gear. More lives cut short in an instant — they wouldn’t even know what was happening yet.

“Three more down… at least wounded.” Cirava didn’t sound excited anymore — the reality of what they were doing was starting to settle in with them.

“I’m going for the guards next — looks like they’re moving behind cover!” Polypa’s voice was hollow against the ringing in Daraya’s ears. “Taking a shot.”

Another blast. This time, the target was a blob huddled behind what looked like a narrow barricade. Judging from the display, it looked like the only thing that hiding there did was ensure that the heavy anti-drone round tore out a good chunk of shrapnel that had surely shredded the body on the other side.

Daraya felt like throwing up.

She saw Elwurd sway in front of her — the combination of stress and the shock from the muzzle blast was affecting her more than the rest. Daraya reached out to steady her friend.

“Are you okay?”

Elwurd shook her head. “Something’s wrong…”

“Just a little while longer and she’ll be done.”

“No… not that… something else… I’m… I can see something. Feel something…” She blinked thickly. “I think I’ve been there before.”

Without another word, Elwurd’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed, face-down, on the dirt.


	45. The Seer, the Sylph, and the Thief

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 0705 local time (2205 AUT)

Off in that forgotten corner of the library, Bronya held Lynera in her arms and desperately wished that everything was going to be okay. Lynera had been crying for a long time — saying that she’d been crying since Daraya had left wasn’t quite right, but she’d been visibly upset for hours. Bronya was trying very hard not to be _visibly_ upset. Inside, where it really mattered, she had already lost the fight.

Finally getting to actually discuss what was happening between the three of them had been freeing — a massive weight taken from her shoulders. But now there was a chance that Daraya wouldn’t return. If Bronya let herself be really, truly honest… it was a _good_ chance she wouldn’t return.

_If nothing changes, a guarantee._ She shifted and clung to Lynera and tried desperately not to think about it. The others were right — there was no other way to ensure the safety of the cavern… but she couldn’t deny what she’d seen in the clouds either. Daraya had sent them both a message to let them know when she was getting ready to set up, and that was likely the last thing they were ever going to hear from her. Daraya was trying just to wrap her mind around that — that not even a full cycle after finally talking to Daraya about her feelings, she was going to lose her. _They_ were going to lose her.

Daraya wasn’t going to come back.

She couldn’t sit here and lie to Lynera, so she held her matesprit and cried silently. Here in this corner of the library — a place where not too long ago the three of them had held each other and realized that they could make this work.

_Fuck._

Lynera sniffled loudly and mumbled into Bronya’s shoulder — “I’m not a wiggler… I know she isn’t going to be coming back. I just wish I could’ve gotten more time with her… more time with the three of us. It feels like some kind of horrible joke that the universe is playing on us, you know?”

Bronya nodded — that was a good way of putting it.

“I know there’s nothing we can do, and that’s what I hate more than anything. I just… I just wish that we could know what happened so we don’t have to sit around _worrying_ like this. I feel like my stomach is getting ripped up inside. I’d rather just _know_ so I can cry and miss her and just… not worry anymore.”

There wasn’t anything to say to that. Bronya leaned in and kissed the top of Lynera’s head and whispered “I’m sorry.”

Ever since she’d started waking up in that other place — the city of gold — she knew that something bad was going to come of it. The shapes in the clouds had become more and more ominous, and it had gotten harder and harder to interpret them. And the final piece — that Daraya Jonjet was going to die on the expanse of the Southern Wastes — was the one piece that she wanted more than anything to ignore.

“Bronya?!” The sound of Chixie’s voice from the entrance to library jolted Bronya from her grieving — she sat up and looked around. Chixie didn’t even wait for a response — she was already back in the library, rushing around the stacks.

She stopped when she saw Bronya, and she stared.

“Come with me. Right now.” It wasn’t a request. Chixie sighed and shook her head. “Fuck it. I know about the place you see when you sleep. The golden city that stretches into forever.”

Bronya could feel something burning behind her eyes. _She can’t know. I’ve never told anyone._

“Bronya… what’s she talking about?” Lynera asked cautiously.

Chixie leaned forward, and her face was deathly serious. “If you want to save them, come with me. I have a plan, but I can’t do it alone.”

* * *

Chixie hadn’t said much — just that they needed to go to Bronya’s chambers right away. When they got inside, Chixie shut the door tightly and heaved out a sigh.

“I’m sorry… I know this is a lot to take in all at once. I know about the place you wake up… except it has a name. A place called _Prospit_ — it’s a place that matters. Or… it _will_ matter sometime in the future? But that’s not a future that’ll happen if we’re all fucking dead.”

“What does it matter?” Bronya asked, her voice betraying the weariness she felt. “1 — they’re already about to attack and 2 —” She sighed — she couldn’t keep doing this.

“Shut the fuck up with that!” Chixie snapped. “I’ve gotten to know you pretty well this last half-sweep and you’re never like this! You’re the one who sees all the possibilities — all the different ways that things can change for the better. You inspire the people around you! Now you’re just going to… give up?!”

Bronya shook her head — the empty feeling inside of her threatened to overwhelm her utterly. “It doesn’t matter… I saw it in the clouds.”

“Fuck what you saw!” Chixie yelled — she was glaring. “You’re just going to give up on someone you love like that?! You’re not even going to _try?!_ ”

Bronya felt herself recoil as if she’d been physically slapped. For the briefest of moments, she wanted to yell back — to scream that Chixie had no idea what she was talking about. She couldn’t _possibly_ understand how that felt, because she just didn’t feel the same way about anyone…

All the hate and bile that boiled up inside of her died, and Bronya hung her head. Because Chixie was _right._

“What do we do?”

Chixie walked over the loungeplank on the side of the room and lay down on her back. “Get in the recupercoon and go to sleep. When you wake up… find me.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Bronya asked, genuinely puzzled.

Chixie smiled and closed her eyes. “You’ll know where to look… _Seer._ ”

A strange feeling came over Bronya — a sensation that she knew exactly what Chixie was talking about. That she had, in fact, known all along.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open, and Bronya looked around the room hastily. She’d been here so many times before — seen the strange loungeplank with the carved symbol above it — the pair of swooping lines that gave her a feeling of boundless change whenever she looked at it. The golden robes that she wore, matching the brilliant glow of this world.

_These were never dreams. Not the way I was thinking of it._

There wasn’t time to waste with any of this. She had the sense that while time passed differently here, she wasn’t going to be able to turn things back. If she waited too long, the team that they’d sent to the Army depot would be dead. Daraya would be dead.

Bronya jumped up out of the bed. How was she supposed to find Chixie in this place? Even _if_ they both existed in this place, how would she find one person in what felt like an infinity.

You’ll know where to look… _Seer._

Bronya closed her eyes and let herself relax. All around her, the feeling of this place — of Prospit — rolled and swirled. She could feel the sense of others out here — others that were awake… asleep… and some that had yet to even appear. In among those small lights on the periphery of her awareness, one of them burned brighter than the rest. It was an urgent, insistent kind of glow — the light of a signal fire rather than a candle.

She concentrated on that one spot.

And, without warning, she felt herself drifting off the ground. Bronya’s eyes snapped open and she yelped — she was floating a few feet off the floor. _This can’t possibly be real!_

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether she thought this place was _real_ or not or how she even defined that reality. What mattered was that this was her only chance to save the others, and she was running out of time. Instinctively, she reached out with sense and muscles she never knew she had and she flew forward, toward the window.

She took a deep breath and pushed off the windowsill and out into the open space beyond… and she flew in a direction that she was certain of, even if she wasn’t entirely sure how.

* * *

Chixie was sitting in a room not dissimilar from the one Bronya had woken up in. The symbol above the bed was different, but the essential layout was basically the same. Bronya flew to the window and went in, stepping softly down to the floor below.

“I told you,” Chixie said softly. “Last time I was here, someone told me a few things about how this place works. Not everything… I don’t think any of us will need to know everything, actually. But enough to do what we need to do.

“What’s your plan, then?” Bronya still couldn’t quite believe that any of this was happening, much less how it would actually help them.

“We’re going to find one of the others… and I’m going to wake them up.”

“What?” Bronya still felt confused — nothing that Chixie was saying was actually _explaining_ anything. “How does that help them?”

“Start looking and I’ll explain.”

Bronya closed her eyes and reached out again — this time looking for the other ones who could be here. For some reason… three of them in particular. But they weren’t the same — some of them were more deeply asleep than the others. She needed to find the one that would be the easiest to wake up… because Chixie said that was important.

“I think that this place and our normal world kind of mirror each other… at least in terms of being awake. When we go to sleep there, we wake up here. I don’t know why that is or what it means, exactly, but that seems to be pretty consistent. It’s also possible to pass information back and forth between here and there… at least once you’re fully away.”

There was one spot of light brighter than the other two — someone who, Bronya instinctively knew, was closer to being awake than the others.

“I found one of them,” Bronya said quietly.

Chixie nodded. “Then lead the way.”

* * *

The two of them arrived at yet _another_ tower after what felt like only a few minutes. Carefully, Bronya landed on the windowsill and looked inside.

“You have got to be kidding me.” She sighed. Inside, on the strange loungeplank, was the sleeping form of Elwurd.

“What is it?” Chixie asked from behind her. She craned her head around Bronya’s shoulder and nodded. “Ah… look, you’re gonna have to put whatever weird ex stuff is going on between you two aside for a minute while we get this sorted out.” Chixie slid around Bronya and dropped into the room. “Get in here — I’m gonna wake her up.”

Chixie walked forward and stopped in front of Elwurd. She looked down, and blushed. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it’d be her, I guess. I don’t know why.” Chixie knelt down next to her, and Bronya saw something in her eyes that she didn’t notice before — and she suddenly realized how much Elwurd meant to this woman.

Chixie was speaking, but she wasn’t speaking to Bronya. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have the courage to tell you this when you’re awake, but I love you so goddamn much. I _never_ thought I’d feel this way about someone, and… I do. And I know that you’ve done a lot of growing for me… I know you care about me… that you love me.” She leaned over and softly kissed Elwurd on the cheek, letting it linger for a moment before drawing back.

Nothing happened. Elwurd still slept on the loungeplank.

“Huh,” Chixie said. “I really thought that would work.”

She leaned forward and shook Elwurd gently, then harder. “Hey! Wake up! We’ve got a serious problem here and we really need to talk to you.”

Without thinking about what she was doing, Bronya dropped into the room and walked forward, next to where Chixie was kneeling.

She pulled back a hand… and slapped Elwurd sharply across the face.

“What the fuck?!” Chixie yelled, falling back onto her ass on the floor. “Why the fuck did you _do_ that?!”

On the loungeplank, Elwurd stirred, opened her eyes, and sat up. “What the entire _fuck_ is going—” She looked around, confused. “Where the hell _am_ I?! Did I get shot?! Did I pass out? Am I fucking dying?!”

“No, you’re not dying.” Bronya said flatly. “We need to talk.”

Elwurd looked over at Chixie, and her expression changed — she slid off the bed and was on her knees next to Chixie, holding her hand. “Are you okay?”

Chixie nodded. “Yeah, sorry… I was trying to wake you up nicely but… I guess you were more asleep than I thought.”

A look of terror crossed Elwurd’s face. “Wait a minute… we started our attack! I don’t know what’s happening and… what the fuck is even happening?!”

“It’s a lot to explain,” Bronya said. “And we don’t have time for the long version because 1 — you are apparently in the middle of combat and 2 — we need you to disengage with the enemy immediately.”

Elwurd snorted. “What? Why the fuck would we do that? It seems like it’s going great.”

“Because you’re all going to die.” Bronya looked at Elwurd without blinking. “Is that enough of a reason for you? Do you still not give a shit about anyone who isn’t you? Are you still living to run away from everything?”

Elwurd glanced over at Chixie nervously and then she sighed — her shoulders went slack and she shook her head. “No… it’s enough of a reason. What do I need to do?”

“Wake up,” Bronya said. “Wake up and get the others out of there. Whatever it takes to convince them… you need to leave right away.”

This time, she nodded, and her face was serious. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.” She sighed and sat back down on the loungeplank. “Hey, Bronya?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry for always being such a goddamn bulge to you. If you wanna talk that over when we get back, I guess… I guess I wouldn’t mind.” She sighed.

Bronya shook her head — hashing out the past with Elwurd was the last thing on her mind. “Elwurd, I don’t think that’s really necessary. Just… be better with the next person.”

Elwurd smiled at that. “Yeah. Hey, Chixie…”

Chixie perked up and leaned in. “Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Elwurd settled onto the loungeplank, and in a minute her breathing had shifted back to the soft, even rhythm of sleep. Sleep in this world… waking in the next.

“So we’re all set?” Bronya asked. “But what now? Just go back to the caverns and… hope that everything is okay?”

“No,” Chixie said quietly. “I need you to show me where one more person is… someone specific. And then I need to go talk to him.”

Bronya perked up at this — she was rapidly getting used to how this place worked. “Oh! I can help!”

But Chixie shook her head slowly, her face shadowed. “No… not with this one. I need to talk to him alone.”


	46. Confronting Your Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter includes references to past sexual assault and abuse. Please proceed with caution if you find this subject matter triggering or unpleasant.

Once Bronya showed her the way, Chixie went ahead on her own, telling Bronya to let the others know what happened while she went to find the one person who she knew could help put a stop to all of this — to find Mallek. She found the line she wanted to follow and fly along it, skimming in over the edges of the towering, golden buildings. This place — Prospit — was incredibly vast. Almost infinitely vast… but Chixie knew that it was an illusion. There were boundaries to this world, and if she stayed here for long enough then she would be able to break through those boundaries.

There was something missing — some essential condition still presided that kept her from fully realizing that potential. She knew, somehow, that it would never be her destiny. She could, possibly, live a long and meaningful life. She could do much to understand herself and help to lay the groundwork for those yet to come. But that was all it would ever be — beyond that, the future was closed to her.

It wasn’t long before she realized that she was being followed. At first, she thought it was only the flitting movement below of one of the white-shelled people that inhabited Prospit. They went about their day, mostly ignoring Chixie’s presence. It wasn’t unusual for them to be about, but there was something distinctly _different_ about this presence. The Pospit people were pleasant — comforting, almost. They seemed to be benevolent… or at least benign.

This other person was not.

Chixie dropped low, barely clearing the buildings now. She still had a ways to go before she reached the room where Bronya had told her Mallek was sleeping. It felt as if this new person was following her, keeping themselves out of sight on purpose. Quickly, Chixie darted behind a building, then dropped low to the ground and skimmed through and alley before coming out the other side.

Behind her, there was a familiar voice.

“Babe… you came all this way just for _me?_ ”

In an instant, Chixie felt herself freezing up. Her breath stopped in her chest, hitched up, and she was choking. She lost all sense of orientation, and without so much as a sputter she unceremoniously crashed to the street below. It didn’t hurt, at least — the rules when it came to that stuff seemed to be different here. She hit the ground and slid, coming to rest up against the wall of one of the buildings.

Behind her, the sound of soft footsteps landing on the ground… the sound of those same footsteps approaching, growing ever-closer. Finally, they stopped.

“Oh shit, babe — didn’t mean to startle you like that. Let me make it up to you.” A voice she never thought she would hear again in her life. “I was wondering if you were here too and… I went looking a bit, but I could never find you. Figured I’d never see you again… made me real sad, babe.”

The voice of Zebruh Codakk.

She scrambled up again, quickly moving to put distance between herself and Zebruh. The ability to fly, once so natural here, seemed to have momentarily abandoned her. Even the ability to stand up and walk or run or do anything but back up against the nearest wall with wide, staring eyes. Looking at a man who…

“You’re dead,” she said incredulously. “In Everdim… you were in Everdim when it was destroyed.”

Zebruh shrugged — the same too-casual way that she’d come to associate with him in particular. “Looks like maybe I’m not.”

She could feel her pusher racing — the sudden desire to be _anywhere_ else but here. The same way she’d felt so many times in the past. The crawling, clawing thing at the back of her mind. “No…”

Zebruh laughed and took a step closer. “I mean… seems more like _yes_ to me. Same difference, right?” He winked. “But seriously, it’s fine. I know we had our own little problems but… I had this weird dream a few days before everything popped off.”

He leaned in and his fake smile faded. “I was still in the hospital when the city got bombed. You knew that, right? I mean… you put me there.” He took another step in, and Chixie tried to push herself further back. The wall was up against her back, and she could feel the memory of the last time — the way that the raw panic was taking over.

“You… deserved it,” she said — her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything you did to me…”

“Did what? Saved you from the Army? Helped you with your music career? Helped you out with… whatever you needed.”

“I didn’t fucking _need_ anything you did!” Chixie felt strange — the fear was starting to fade. In its place was an anger that burned her chest. “You didn’t fucking do _shit_ for me!” She took a step towards him, pushing her back away from the wall. Her head swirled and churned and the memories blended into the present… but she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. She took another step forward, and Zebruh took a step back.

“What the fuck did I _ever_ need from you?! You lied to me. You hurt me. You hit me. You raped me. You were an abusive, controlling piece of shit and you deserved what I did to you!” She glared at him.

Zebruh had his hands up — he was walking backwards quickly now. “Now, babe… that’s not really true, is it? You wan—”

“If you finish that sentence, I will hollow your mind out and there won’t be anything left of who you were.” She didn’t know why she said it, but somehow she knew… if she tried hard enough _she could do it._ “You shouldn’t have come to find me. I’m not the same person I was.”

There was a subtle shift in the air — a sense of something moving from one place to another, displacing the molecules… and Chixie could sense something else behind it — a shift not in the space of the environment but in the actual flow of the fabric of time itself.

Marvus Xoloto was standing behind Zebruh. The indigo blood bumped up against him without even realizing. He turned… and he froze in place.

“G-grandmaster Xoloto?!” Zebrush said — the last bit of color was drained from his face. Chixie stopped and stared at Marvus. He wasn’t smiling.

“Hey, Chix. Nice to see you again, girl. This dude botherin you?”

Zebrush stammered out a response — “I— I was just talking to my matesprit.”

Marvus leaned in and glared. “I wasn’t talkin to you. I think maybe Chix here don’t wanna call you her matesprit, ya feel me?” He looked up at Chixie. “That right, girl?”

She nodded, and Marvus nodded back. “Ya… thought so.”

In one smooth motion, Marvus grabbed Zebruh around the throat and lifted him into the air. Zebruh gasped and choked for air. Chixie watched… and she didn’t feel anything.

“Way I see it, you’re on borrowed time already, yeah?” Marvus glared into Zebruh’s eyes. “Figure you had a chance to make peace with what you were. An you jus… you figure _well I’ll find the girl I hurt and creep on her some more,_ yeah?”

“I—” Zebruh choked. For a moment, Chixie wondered if he could be killed in this place.

“Shit yeah, girl,” Marvus said… said it to her. Chixie took a step back. “No worries, girl — sometimes I can just see what folks got up in their pans. An you got a way of puttin that shit out there for everyone to hear.”

“Sorry,” Chixie said, shuffling. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Nah, it’s cool, Chix. I always liked you a lot. I shoulda done more about this one when I had the chance — shoulda kept you from having to have his blood on your hands.”

He stared directly into Zebruh’s eyes. “But me… I got plenty of blood on mine already.”

Without another word, he brought his other hand up and grabbed Zebruh’s head. With one, singular motion he twisted with an impossible strength, and there was a dry-wet cracking, ripping sound like the noise of cracking a cluckbeast bone. Marvus let go of Zebruh’s body, and it dropped to the ground and hit with a dull thud.

And she didn’t feel anything.

Then, after a moment, a sense of relief flooded through her. Her body relaxed.

“Sorry bout all that, Chix. I had a sense that he was out here but…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Glad I was checkin up on you, girl.”

“What?!” Chixie stared at him. “Why?!”

“Cause you got important shit ta do! Gotta make sure you get to it, ya hear me?” Marvus stepped toward Chixie, stopping in front of her. He towered over her — and if he wanted to, Chixie supposed he could snap her neck just as easily as he had Zebruh’s… and yet, somehow, she wasn’t nervous or afraid. Marvus reached out and put a hand on Chixie’s shoulder. “I really am sorry, girl. Wish I coulda done more for ya. For everyone. Clowns trapped in the belly of the beast same as y’all, ya feel?”

She nodded and smiled. “I want to try to help change that. Even if it never happens while I’m alive.”

“Girl, this thing is so much bigger than any of us. Do what you can, don worry bout the rest.” He grinned at her — a grin that was so earnest and genuine that Chixie couldn’t help but smile back. “Now get goin, girl — ya got some shit to do.”

* * *

She left Marvus behind, and once again she was flying through the skies of Prospit, high enough that she could easily get a sense of the place. She’d almost lost her bearings after running into Zebruh, but Marvus had pointed her in the right direction and she’d flown straight along.

The tower was there at the end of her journey, the same as all the others.

Chixie didn’t bother with the door, but simply flew to the window and stepped inside. She knew exactly what she would see — the rooms all seemed to follow the same basic pattern. What she wasn’t expecting was to see the exact same symbol above Mallek’s loungeplank as the one that was above Marvus’. What that meant, Chixie had no idea. She didn’t bother to ponder on it any more, dropping down into the room and walking up to the slumbering figure of Mallek Adalov.

She didn’t know if he’d ever woken up in this place before. She didn’t know how deeply he was asleep. She didn’t know a lot of things. Instead of worrying about the details, she focused all of her energy inside of herself… gathered up all of her willpower…

And slapped him as hard as she could on the face.

Mallek’s eyes shot open. “What the _FUCK?!_ ” He sat up and looked around, terrified. “Where the fuck am I?! What the fuck is happening?!” Mallek finally noticed Chixie and his jaw dropped. “Chixie?! What are you doing in this… am I dreaming?! _Did you fucking SLAP me?!_ ”

She shrugged and struck an embarrassed grin. “Sorry. It worked when Bronya woke Elwurd up, so…”

“Wait, what the fuck?!” Mallek was looking around, still confused. He’d finally noticed he was wearing completely different clothes. “Is this a fucking dream?! Elwurd’s here too?”

“No, she woke up already. And no… this isn’t a dream. Not the way you’re thinking of it, anyway.” She frowned. “We need to talk.”

Mallek looked down, his face filling with a deep shame. “I know… what I said… that I let them convince me that it was the right thing to do. So much has happened since then.”

Chixie shook her head. “I was there, you know? I almost died because of that bomb. Saw a lot of people who did.” She sighed. “Look… I’m not blaming you for it. You didn’t make them do any of that shit. But why did you agree to help those people at all?”

“Because I was afraid. Because they’ve got actual power… the ability to actually make revolution in a meaningful way.”

“For what? So a different set of high bloods can be on top of the pile? Did you think that maybe they’d let you in? Is that why you worked with Galekh?”

Mallek shrugged and his face flushed cobalt. “I don’t fucking _know_ anymore. There’s been so much… I don’t want this.”

“What if I told you there’s a way to help make things just a little bit better?”

He laughed. “I’d probably say you’re a fucking liar.” Mallek looked up and squinted. “Wait… you’re serious, aren’t you?” Chixie nodded solemnly.

She wasn’t sure how he was going to take it, but he was basically their last hope to do what needed to be done. The only way that the vision in the clouds wasn’t going to come to pass.

“Your ship — it has a connection to the Imperial supply networks?”

“Yeah, I guess… uh… we kinda got hit really hard. We’re drifting in orbit right now and we took a lot of damage.” A thoughtful look crossed Mallek’s face. “I… I _might_ have a way to connect into the network. Pretty sure we’ve still got connectivity, it’ll just be a matter of getting into the actual net. I’ve got an idea.”

“Good,” Chixie said. “There’s something specific I need you to do… something that’ll help keep everyone safe.”

* * *

the Free Jade Caverns - 0733 local time (2233 AUT)

On the other side of the golden city, back in the world of the jade caverns, Chixie opened her eyes. The world was blurry at first — the same way that it always was when she woke from dreams. But this was different… because she wasn’t coming back from a dream.

Bronya was kneeling on the floor nearby, fully dressed again after her time in the recupercoon and looking nervous. Chixie slowly pushed herself up on the loungeplank and groaned. “How long was I out for?”

Bronya shook her head. “Not long… maybe twenty minutes?”

_Time passes differently over there._ And whatever had happened with Elwurd had already happened, she was sure of it. A feeling like a fist clenched around her guts and she could feel the shaking starting. _What if she’s dead?! If she’s dead I don’t think I can handle this… I don’t think I can do this right now._

“Did you do what you needed to?”

Chixie groaned — it was everything she could do not to throw up. “I did what I could…”

Bronya nodded and opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Chixie wrapped her arms around her chest and sighed.

“I did everything I could, Bronya.”


	47. Survivalism

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

outside the Alternian Army depot, the Southern Wastes - 0717 local time (2217 AUT)

Elwurd’s eyes snapped open and she came back to conscious awareness all at once.

And it was far too quiet.

“Oh thank fuck!” Daraya’s voice hissed next to her. “What happened?!”

Elwurd sat up without saying a word and looked around. Daraya and Cirava were both nearby, looking nervously at her, and Polypa was still up on her perch with the rifle. Pushing herself back up, Elwurd tried to get her bearings. She’d been in that other place for some amount of time, but she wasn’t sure how long.

But she was sure of one thing — they needed to get away from this place.

“We need to leave. _Now!_ ” Elwurd tried to keep her voice down. “Why did she stop shooting?!”

“Because I don’t have a good line on the other soldiers and you were down for the count,” Polypa called from above. “I’m not gonna waste this ammo just plinking at them either. We’ve got at least a good half dozen left.”

“We were waiting for you to wake up before we moved in,” Daraya said under her breath. “There’s no way we can do this on our own.”

A sudden fear gripped Elwurd deep inside — the shaking had already started. They couldn’t do it on their own… and they couldn’t do it with her either. The overwhelming sense of _wrongness_ kept creeping in, lying down on top of her and smothering her — cutting off all sense of the outside world.

“We can’t do it.”

“Excuse the fuck me?” Cirava said sharply. “This is literally our only chance at this. You think an Army depot is bad? If we fuck this up and it gets taken off the network, our next option is gonna be something a hell of a lot bigger. Or up in space and… in case you didn’t notice, we don’t exactly have our own fucking Fleet, do we?”

Elwurd frowned and looked around again. She couldn’t shake the feeling — couldn’t shake what Bronya had said to her.

Because you’re all going to die.

She looked Daraya dead in the eyes. “Do you trust me?” She could see the hesitation in the jade blood’s eyes, but it melted away almost instantly.

“Yeah, actually.” Daraya sighed and looked down at the ground. “Why? People only say that kind of shit when something’s really wrong.”

“Because we can’t go in there! I don’t know exactly why, but I just talked to Bronya and—”

“Wait, what?! What the hell are you talking about?! You were passed out!”

Elwurd waved a hand and shook her head frantically, needing desperately for Daraya to shut up and just _listen_ to her. “It’s too much to explain now — we need to leave!”

Polypa turned and looked down from her perch, frowning. “The fuck we do. Did you not hear Cirava? This is literally our only chance.” She turned back and checked her rifle again. “Screw it… I’m going to lay down cover fire and we’re going to—”

“Wait!” The sound of Cirava yelling cut in across the eerie silence. Elwurd could feel that drop in her insides — the sense that something was about to change in a profound and terrible way. “Wait! We’ve got something happening… I’m showing incoming on the overwatch!”

_It’s here. Whatever Bronya was worried about. This is why she didn’t want us going in._

“What the fuck?!” Polypa’s voice was cracking. “There’s no way!”

Without waiting for anyone else to respond, Elwurd leapt to her feet and dashed up onto the rocky outcropping where Polpya was, sliding down next to her and looking out into the distance. She didn’t have the benefit of the magnified rifle scope, but she didn’t need it. Off in the distance, flying in low over the horizon, were a handful of deep black shapes. They vaguely resembled drones, but they were larger… and something was off about how they moved. It didn’t feel like the standard, mechanical way that the drone operators flew.

_Because they don’t have operators._

“This is what she was talking about…” Elwurd felt all the breath leaving her lungs as she spoke. “Shit… it’s too late.”

Polypa grimaced. “Empress damn this shit.” She checked the rifle and adjusted it against her shoulder. “Hope you have your ear pro on, because this is about to get loud.”

Elwurd reached out and put a hand on Polypa’s shoulder. “No… don’t do it. Something’s wrong.”

“Something’s _wrong?!_ We’ve got some new kind of drone and— oh shit, you’re right.”

The drones had landed inside of the Army depot, moving out of where Elwurd could easily see them. She knew that Polypa had the overlay from the overwatch drone though — that must be what she was watching on.

“What the hell?!” Polypa exclaimed. “They’re attacking the soldiers!”

Elwurd slid back from her spot next to Polypa and dropped down, running over to where Cirava and Daraya sat staring at the tactical display. She got down next to them just in time to hear Daraya whispering — “This is what she was talking about.”

“What the fuck’s going on?” Elwurd asked. “The drones are attacking the Army?!”

“The drones are fucking _massacring_ the Army,” Cirava said under their breath. They cleared their throat and looked Elwurd dead in the eyes. “They’re basically all…” They looked down quickly and their eyes started to water. “Oh shit they’re all dead!”

Daraya yelled — “What the hell?! That was like a minute! What the hell _are_ these things?!”

_The Empress’ new contingency plan._

“Okay!” Polypa yelled from above. “We are _leaving!_ ” She began to take the rifle off its mount when Cirava called up to interrupt her.

“Wait! Two of the drones are breaking off from the rest! They’re coming right for us!” They frantically tapped at the tactical display. “I think they patched into the overwatch drone!”

“Fucking kill it!” Polypa screamed. She snapped the rifle back into its mount. “I’ve got this!”

“You’ll lose targeting!”

“I said to fucking _kill it!_ I’ve fucking _got this!_ ”

Cirava nodded and entered a series of commands on the tactical pad. The feed went dead instantly, and somewhere above there was the faint sound of an explosion as the overwatch drone self-destructed.

From up above, the sound of false thunder rose as Polypa took one shot with the rifle. A second later, she yelled from above — “One down! Taking a second shot!”

Elwurd grabbed Daraya by the arm and shook her. “We need to go! There’s gonna be more!”

Another roar, and after another pause, Polypa cheered. “Hell yeah! Two down!”

“We need to _leave!_ ” Daraya screamed to Polypa. “You think they only have two of those things! Elwurd said we shouldn’t go and she was fucking _right!_ If we’d moved in we’d all be dead!”

“Don’t get excited just yet…” Polypa shifted the rifle and another loud blast sounded out. This time, she swore and pounded a fist into the ground. “Shit! Only damaged that one.”

“What part of _we need to fucking leave_ wasn’t clear?!” Daraya shouted, walking over to the rocky perch. “Get the hell down here!”

Polypa nodded and quickly unsnapped the rifle from its heavy mount. Leaving the mount behind, she slung the rifle over her back and slid down, hitting the ground next to Daraya. She didn’t need to say anything else — they all turned and began to run toward the spot where the lusii were hitched.

In the distance, Elwurd could hear the noise of the drones as they boosted up into the air again. The whistling roar of their thrusters. The sound of death that took wing and followed them from place to place. She bent her head and ran faster, keeping pace with Polypa. She had no idea how the olive blood was going so fast with the giant anti-drone rifle on her back, but she wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down.

They hit the rocks where the lusii were inside of fifteen seconds and immediately began to unhitch the deercats. Polypa slung her rifle onto the side of her mount and quickly turned to Elwurd — her face was a mask of barely-concealed terror. Seeing that in someone as collected as Polypa was almost worse than the sight of the drones.

“Did Bronya say anything else?” Elwurd noticed that she’d gotten past the idea of actually asking _how_ Elwurd had heard from Bronya. “Anything about what we need to do?”

“I don’t know, but I’m guessing… fucking run.”

* * *

Bent low on her deercat, Elwurd urged the lusus forward as fast as it would go. All around her, the others did the same… and behind her, the sound of the drones was growing louder and louder. Elwurd turned back around to check, and she could see two of the dark-shelled things flying toward them quickly.

One of them was sputtering smoke as it flew — probably the one that Polypa had managed to hit — but the other was fresh and unblemished. Whatever resistance the soldiers in the Army depot had put up, it hadn’t been enough.

“Fuck!” She turned back and crouched down. “Two of them are behind us!” She yelled to the others.

The sound of something whizzing past sounded over the rush of the wind and Elwurd realized that the drones were close enough to fire on them. She pushed the lusus just a bit more — maybe it had some hidden reserves to draw on now that they were being shot at! The noise of the heavy anti-personnel rounds impacting the hard-pack sounded as the drones tried to find their mark. It would happen soon enough.

“We’re heading into the canyon up ahead!” Polypa yelled. “We need to lose these things!”

Off to their right, a shallow gash was cut into the landscape — calling it a “canyon” felt a little bit charitable, even if it was technically true. They steered their lusii toward it, all of them hoping that they’d be able to get there before the drones. More of the drone rounds impacted nearby — much too close to be comfortable.

The ground dropped down, leading them down into the canyon. Behind her, Elwurd heard a grinding, screeching noise — she turned to see the smoke from the damaged drone turn deep black. The drone dropped, popped up again, then fell from the sky and hit the ground in a roll, bouncing over the rocky terrain. It didn’t get up again.

The last drone was still coming.

Elwurd closed her eyes and wondered if she’d done everything she could. They’d left shortly after she woke up, but maybe there was something else that could’ve been done.

Something whistled past her, and then the world in front of her was on fire.

The force of the explosion from in front of of them knocked Elwurd off the deercat. She hit the ground hard and rolled, slamming into a rock — all the breath went out of her and a burst of pain exploded in her side. Next to her, she heard the sound of someone else hitting the ground, and looked up to see Daraya tumble and roll into the middle of the canyon. Elwurd pushed herself up to a crawl — the pain in her side was excruciating. _Being shot hurt less than this!_

She looked around frantically — she couldn’t see Cirava or Polypa anywhere. The canyon ahead was partially blocked by a pile of rubble that had rained down from the sides when the drone had blasted it away.

The drone that was now landing in front of them and walking slowly forward.

It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen before — it was almost like it was _playing_ with them. _Because these damn things are alive._ Elwurd felt the last of her energy draining out from her. She’d tried… she had really, honestly tried. That it wasn’t going to be enough wasn’t really her fault, was it? At least this way she’d be able to finally stop running.

The drone turned… and began walking directly toward Daraya.

Inside her, Elwurd felt something snap. She pushed herself fully to standing, ignoring the feeling of the definitely-broken ribs in her side. Lurching forward, she closed the distance between her and Daraya. The jade blood was still lying on the ground, moving slowly but definitely not able to run.

Elwurd slid in front of Daraya, sheltering her body behind her. She looked up at the drone — the huge, menacing thing of black chitin.

“You can have her when you get through me.”

She pulled out the service pistol that she had at her side — Polypa had insisted they all carry side-arms — and she emptied the magazine into the thing’s head.

Of course, it barely even scratched it — the chitin didn’t show so much as a dent. Elwurd dropped the pistol and fell back, landing on her back next to Daraya. The jade blood reached out weakly and grasped at Elwurd’s arm.

“Hey… thanks for trying, anyway… I thought you sounded pretty cool.”

Elwurd smiled and leaned in. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Daraya smiled back and closed her hand around Elwurd’s. “See you later, maybe.” She closed her eyes and smiled, waiting for the end to come.

The wave of pressure hit them all at once, and Elwurd didn’t _hear_ the blast so much as _feel_ it all the way down to the roots of her teeth. She snapped her head around to see the drone, standing over them…

Its head exploded outward into a pulpy mass of chitin and what looked like ichor. Blood.

The drone keeled over and collapsed onto the ground, twitched, and didn’t move again. Standing nearby, crouched back on the ground with the massive anti-drone rifle propped up on her legs, was Polypa. She was grimacing, hiding behind the smoking barrel of the rifle.

In that moment, Elwurd felt like she could kiss her.

“Holy fucking _shit!_ ” Elwurd winced as she yelled — those ribs were going to be sore for a while — but she was too excited to care. “Holy shit shit _shit!_ That was fucking _amazing!_ ”

Polypa stood up, leaving the rifle behind, and walked over to where Daraya and Elwurd were lying on the ground. She bent down and looked over at Daraya.

“Are you able to walk?” She asked. Daraya opened her eyes and pushed herself up… she was weak, but she didn’t look injured. “Cirava is all right, I think, but one of the deercats is definitely dead so we’ll have to double up on the way home.”

“I’ll… I’ll be okay. Are there more of them?”

Polypa shook her head. “Not that I saw. But we’ve gotta get moving or there will be. If they spot us again, they’ll follow us right back to the caverns.”

Daraya frowned. “Not that it matters. We’re still gonna have to run. We weren’t able to touch the registry and now it’ll get cut off for good…”

Elwurd shook her head, thinking of what Bronya and Chixie had been doing in that other place — the place with the golden towers. “I don’t know… I think that Bronya and the others had a plan. I really hope so.”

Polypa sighed and looked over at the carcass of the drone. _Carcass…_ that was the right word, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, me too.”


	48. Read-Only Access

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 2237 AUT

The first thing Mallek noticed when he woke up was that he felt very much like he had to throw up. He’d never spent more than a short time in actual zero-gravity, and the combination of a complete loss of gravity and the evasive maneuvering had turned his stomach in all kinds of new and interesting ways. He groaned and looked around — the bridge was lit mainly by emergency lighting and he was still strapped into the flight seat.

“What the fuck…” he muttered. It would’ve been so easy to dismiss what he’d seen as a dream, but it wasn’t. He wasn’t even sure how he knew that, but it wasn’t a dream.

“You need to pull the jade caverns out of the drone scanning registry,” Chixie said.

Mallek blinked heavily and struggled against the restraints of the flight seat, groaning loudly. He caught the sight of something moving in the corner of his vision, and the figure of Remele came drifting into sight. She wasn’t wearing her armor anymore, and without it she looked a lot less bulky than before. Still like she could probably snap him like a twig if she wanted to though.

“You’re finally up, huh? Have a nice nap?” She laughed. “I’ll help you out of the seat if you want.”

“Ugh…” Mallek groaned. “I got it… just… how long was I out for?”

Remele shrugged. “A few hours, maybe. We all passed out during the evasive burn and then… poof…” She spread her hands, as if mimicking an explosion. “No thrusters, no defensive systems — just drifting in high orbit. Maybe we’ll eventually get drawn into planetary gravity. Who knows?”

It took a minute of fidgeting with the buckles, but eventually Mallek managed to free himself from the safety straps. Once they were gone, he drifted up — it made his stomach lurch again, although he found he was getting used to the feeling of weightlessness. There was so much he needed to do all of a sudden. So much to worry about.

“What? The jade caverns? Like… all of the ones on the registry?” Mallek asked, frowning. He was still trying to get used to the sight of the strange golden robes he was wearing.

“Look… Remele… I need to do something. Something super important. Can you tell me what the hell’s been going on the last few hours?”

She nodded. “Well… me and Commander Carmia woke up first… we’ve been trained for this kind of maneuvering, after all. We checked the ship’s systems as much as possible.We’ve still got network comms into the Fleet system, but it’s all receive-only. Life support is… working. Kind of. Basically everything else is down — no weapons, no thrusters.”

“Why’d the drones leave us alone?”

Remele shook her head, frowning. “We have no idea. To toy with us, maybe? It’s not easy to say.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “In any case, the gold blood — Azdaja — is trying to patch into the systems that control the escape pods. We’ve lost a lot of crew… but there’s still a lot left alive.”

_Not for long, the way things are going._ “Okay… I need to get to something that’ll let me get two-way access to the Fleet network.” He was mostly thinking out loud — trying to work his head around a problem that seemed unsolvable. “Gotta get a pipe back to the Imperial network… even if it’s limited, I can work with that.”

Mallek pushed off and floated up toward the ceiling of the bridge, watched by Remele as he drifted. As he drifted up, an idea began to form in his mind.

“Hey, Remele… you know if the hall of records is still intact?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe? I think Commander Carmia went to check on the core area… the hall of records was off there, yes?”

Mallek nodded. “What about Amisia?”

Remele frowned. “She is barely older than a wiggler. She was not ready for this. I believe she is in the ready room if you need her.”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s try for the hall of records… this is kinda time sensitive.”

* * *

Fortunately, most of the central corridor of the Iustitia was intact. They’d done a good job with it when they converted it to an assault carrier, but the drones had still managed to pick it over very thoroughly. As a result, the emergency power systems were now basically all they had. Security doors had to be manually opened — and many of them had already been left open by the remaining crew as they checked the ship’s systems.

“It is a waste,” Remele said as they drifted down the corridor, using the hand-holds that were mounted every few feet to keep themselves oriented. “This ship had so much potential and yet…” She sighed. “A waste, like I said.”

Mallek nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. Instead, he was trying desperately to figure out how he was going to do what he’d promised Chixie.

“I don’t forgive you, you know?” she said quietly. “For what you said… I don’t forgive you because you could’ve gotten my friends killed. And I thought you were one of us.”

Mallek sighed and looked down at his hands. “I know, Chixie. I don’t think this is the kind of thing that an _I’m sorry_ gets me back from. I get that.”

“No, it doesn’t. But this will go a long way toward making things right. If you actually give a shit about that, I guess.”

“I don’t understand though… I get not wanting to be found, but why is this specific cavern so important? Is this about the egg that you’re watching over?”

Chixie nodded. “It’s complicated, but basically yes. That egg needs to stay safe until it’s time for it to be hatched.”

“And… when is that going to be?”

But Chixie hadn’t answered him. Instead, she fixed him with a glare and simply said — “Look… do this or don’t… but you lost the right to ask me all these questions a couple cycles ago.”

“Well, here we are,” Remele said curtly. The door to the hall of records had been forced open, but everything was intact. That was a good sign, at least. Mallek pushed himself through the door and floated inside, looking around the dimly-lit hall for some sign that he’d be able to make this plan work.

“What are you looking for?” Remele asked him, her voice softening. “You seemed quite sure.”

Mallek nodded. “Access terminal. Records will have a two-way system set up for updates. It’s not supposed to allow backing into the system from here but… well, I know how to get around that little hurdle.” Mallek smiled. “Just gotta figure out where the fuck it is…”

“Who goes there?!” A nasal voice sounded from the shadows, followed by a laugh from nearby. The first voice cracked into laughter as well, then stopped. “No, no… it doesn’t work if you’re fucking _laughing_ about it!”

Mallek recognized the voice in a vague kind of way — the teal blood who’d been in the hall of records. He thought he remembered the name…

“Tagora? That’s you, right?”

From the shadows, the teal floated into view, clutching a thick glass bottle. “That’s meeee!”

_Oh great, he’s fucking drunk._ “What are you doing in here?”

“Me?” Tagora quirked an eyebrow. “Drinking, mostly. Hanging out with my new best friend Azdaja…”

Another figure emerged from the shadows and nodded. “Hey… that’s me…” He sounded drunk too. “You know how _hard_ it is to drink in space?”

“It’s so hard!” Tagora said quickly. “But we’re smart so we figured it out.”

_Oh Empress fucking damn it._ “Okay… can either of you point me in the direction of your access terminal? The one you use for pulling records updates down from the Empire?”

Tagora drifted in front of Mallek, pulling a stupid smile. _How much did he have to drink? How’d he even manage it in zero-G?_

“Suuuure… right on over… there—” he pointed vaguely toward the back. “In the back!”

Leaving the intoxicated Tagora and Azdaja, Mallek pushed himself along the cabinets full of records, moving along the rows until he was in the back of the hall. Here, there was a bank of servers — still humming faintly under emergency power — and a small terminal tucked away in a corner. There was no doubt — that would be the access terminal. Mallek shoved off the nearest wall and guided himself in to stop in front of the terminal.

He called back up to Remele. “Hey! You got a command tablet around somewhere?”

“Yes — there’s one in the bridge. I can go back and get it, yes?”

Mallek nodded — “Yeah, do that. Bring it back here as quickly as you can.”

While Remele floated off to go get the command tablet, Mallek began to check through the existing system. It looked, at least, like the two-way connection was intact, so that meant that he’d be able to back-trace along the system pipes and eventually get to a locked door that he could make a key to. After that, it would simply be a matter of doing what Chixie talked about.

It was an ingenious plan — making the system think that everything was fine by tricking it into thinking it was under attack.

“Whatcha doin?” The half-slurred voice of Tagora drifted down from above, and he began to slowly make his way over to Mallek. “You should join us and just… relax.”

Mallek glared, but he didn’t look at Tagora. Instead, he began to work in the system, tapping away to prep the network interface to accept the input from the command tablet when he finally got it. It didn’t take long — the system wasn’t that different than the ones used throughout the Empire, and Mallek had cut his teeth hacking Imperial data interfaces.

“Fine… you wanna be a stupid bulge-eater, go for it…” Tagora mumbled, then floated off in another direction. Mallek ignored him and kept working.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Mallek had just finished his work on the network interface when Remele came back holding the ruggedized command tablet. She passed it to him, but there was something else in her face — something had happened.

“What? What is it?” Mallek asked, squinting. “What happened?”

“You need to check the wide broadcast channels… there’s a queued message sent to any receiving devices.”

“Which channel? Which devices?” Mallek felt the confusion boiling up — he hated when people were cryptic about simple things.

“All of them.”

Mallek grabbed the tablet and opened the interface to check the broadcast channels — he picked the first one and immediately saw the queued message notification. With a press of a button, the screen went black, and a text crawl appeared —

_“Please stand by for a message from Her Imperious Condescension”_

“What the fuck?” Mallek said under his breath. “From the old Empress? When was this recorded?” He looked up to see Remele shaking her head, silently.

The image faded onto the screen — the smiling visage of Trizza Tethis.

“Hey there, loyal Alternian subjects. I’m sure you’ve noticed my new title!” She waved at the screen and smiled coldly. “I figure that the old bitch’s been dead long enough I can finally assume that mantle. Especially since I’ve got some big plans to head off and conquer and all that good shit.”

The Empress sighed and rolled her eyes on the screen. “Of course, normally I’d have a High Imperator to take care of things while I was gone, but he went and got himself blown up by a fucking clown so I’m kinda short-staffed.” She shrugged and smiled again.

“Good news though! I just finished a neat project that’ll make sure everyone’s in good hands while I’m gone! I like to call it _the Homeworld Initiative!_ Isn’t that fucking neat!” She winked and tapped the side of her nose. “I thought it was clever, anyway.”

She took a deep breath and continued — “Point being, there’s some changes that’ll be coming along. Some of you might’ve noticed we’ve got some new drones! They’re a lot better than the old ones… and if you’re just a me-fearing Alternian citizen they should leave you alone! Maybe…”

“ _But_ if you take up arms against them, or me, or any of my loyal subjects then they will fucking cull you.” Trizza glared into the camera. “So maybe don’t do that shit.”

Mallek looked over at Remele, but the cerulean shook her head — there was more to come.

“A couple other things too — first off, I need a lot of good, strong Alternians to keep the planet going while I’m away. So, effective immediately, genetic contribution is no longer being handled on the semi-mandatory basis it was. It’s now a requirement that _all_ adult Alternians contribute genetic material on a monthly basis. My new drones will be by to pick up the Empire-approved receptacles and if you don’t have something to contribute then they’ll cull you, because I don’t have time for your bullshit and neither do they.”

Mallek felt his stomach crawling. And the Empress wasn’t done talking.

“Also, recruitment into the Fleet and Army will still be handled by the drones, but we’re not going to have the same… lapses in coverage as before. No more ceruleans and indigos dodging service! Oh hell no — I need everyone up in space to help me keep this Empire strong and thriving.”

She smiled again — the smile of a predatory fish about to close in.

“And one last thing — I know there’s a bunch of these silly little groups of rebels running around, doing their thing. And, y’know what, I’m tired of that. So here’s the deal…” Trizza stopped, pursed her lips, and tapped her nose again. “I don’t really care what you think you’re doing down on Alternia… as long as you keep filling those pails and sending me soldiers. And as long as you never fuck with my drones or try to leave the planet. In a little bit, I’m gonna re-task the planetary railguns on the Pink Moon to automatically target any ships that try to leave Alternia without the proper Fleet identification codes. No exceptions. You can play your stupid games on Alternia, but if you try to take those games offworld or mess with my stuff, you die.”

The smile widened and she waved at the camera. “I think that’s basically it… feel free to watch this again if you wanna see my beautiful face some more! Byeeee!”

The transmission cut off, and Mallek was left staring at the empty screen. His mouth hung open — “When was this first sent?”

Remele shrugged and shook her head. “Twenty minutes ago, maybe? I dunno.”

Mallek quickly reached out to connect the command tablet with the network terminal, trying desperately to stop the shaking in his hands as he did it. “Okay, well, we might have a severely limited time frame to get this done before a fucking railgun blasts us.”

Remele didn’t say anything — Mallek figured she’d been through worse, honestly.

It wasn’t like in the underground novels he read, where the daring hacker always got things done at the last minute while everything was exploding around them. He loved those novels, but they were trash and had absolutely no basis in reality. Reality was more like sitting in a half-dead starship and uploading a fake backup to the Imperial core database.

Five minutes later, the correct registry file was uploaded — one piece of changed code to remove a certain coordinate from the drones’ awareness.

“Okay, here goes…” Mallek muttered, and he ran the command to take the Imperial database offline. They’d have it back up in a matter of minutes, of course, exactly as it was… or, at least, they would think it was.

“We’re going to need to figure out how to get off this ship,” Remele said. “I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of dying up here after everything.”

“I know… one thing at a time, I guess.” He stared at the readout on the command tablet. “Looks like it’s working, at least. About time that _something_ went right.”

“Time to go find the Commander and figure out how to get off this shithole?”

Mallek nodded — “Yeah, but… just one thing first.”

It only took a second to patch the command tablet into his messenger account. Just a second to do something he needed to do.

snakeBytes began chatting with gaegrl69nice on at 2256 AUT

Mallek

elwurd, i = sorry for everything;   
wanted to let you know that the registry = fixed;   
cavern = safe and you != in danger anymore;

i hope you = okay though;   
what i did = stupid and fucked up;   
i know that you can’t forgive me;

but i want you to know that i wanted to do the right thing in the end;   
for whatever that = worth;

He sighed and shut the tablet off.

“Okay… let’s get the hell out of here.” He didn’t need to add _or die trying._

It was implied.


	49. The Orbiting Mausoleum

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Imperial Assault Carrier _Iustitia_ \- 2258 AUT

Ardata had spent the better part of two hours drifting slowly down the half-dark corridors of her once-grand ship, checking everywhere for some way that they could get off this place that was destined to become their tomb. Systems had gone into lockdown automatically, closing blast doors and shutting down entire sections. She was trying not to think about how many more crew she’d lost to the hard vacuum outside or the blistering fires that would’ve flared up during the attack as the ship took damage and systems began to catastrophically fail.

Most of the central core of the ship was at least still under life support. She’d floated down past the hall of records — Initiate Gorjek and Sergeant Knelex appeared to be well under way in the process of getting stone drunk. Ardata didn’t say anything — if they wanted to cope like that in this moment, then so be it.

As she checked the systems and floated down the hallways, her palmhusk had chimed with a priority message on the wide-band broadcast. She’d watched it.

And now she knew what the Homeworld Initiative was all about.

_Too late to actually do anything about it._ Ardata didn’t know what she would actually be able to do about it anyway — reaching the Pink Moon was out of the question now. It had probably, realistically, always been out of the question. The idea of sneaking within range had seemed like a good one, but it felt like she was just underestimating the Empress.

Her Imperious Condescension now, she supposed. Whatever she wanted to call herself, it hardly changed anything. Alternia was about to change, and Ardata wasn’t sure if she’d even live to see it happen. She wasn’t sure what place she would have in it anyway — she was almost certainly on whatever cull lists the Empress had prepared for her new drones.

She reached the end of a corridor — reached the blast door that had sealed off the next section of the ship. According to the warning next to the door, there was nothing but hard vacuum beyond. Ardata cursed to herself and pushed back off the door, floating back the way she’d come.

On her way back to the bridge, she ran into Tagora, who was floating aimlessly down the hall with an empty bottle clutched in his hands. He smiled as he came closer.

“Well, hello there, _Fleet Commander!_ ” She didn’t like how he emphasized the last words. To cap it off, he let the bottle go and clapped his hands to his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no! Did I say that? I meant… _nothing_ Commander… Commander of shit…” Tagora giggled and glared at her. “How’s it feel to be just like the rest of us now? Just as fucking trapped… waiting for the Empress to zap us with a railgun.”

She scowled at him. “Initiate Gorjek, get the fuck out of my face.”

“Oh I’m not _Initiate_ Gorjek anymore… I’m just…” He drew himself up and smiled. “Tagora Gorjek, Alternian Winged Talonbeast of the Law!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ardata waved dismissively.

“Oh? You never saw my commercials? I had a good thing going before I got snagged up into the Legiscorpus… then all downhill from there.”

“Get out of here… or I’ll kill you myself,” Ardata glared and reached down toward her service pistol. Using it under these conditions would be unpleasant, but not impossible.

To her considerable annoyance, Tagora simply smiled. “I’m sure you will, but then what? You’ve got a mess to clean up and we’ll both still be in the same position.”

With a grunt, Ardata pushed around him and continued on down the corridor, ignoring the heckling laugh that followed her. Down at the end and around another bend, and she saw the other member of the pair of drunkards hanging out by a bulkhead. Azdaja Knelex was holding a palmhusk in his hands and tapping at it periodically.

“Watch Sergeant!” Ardata called. “Get your ass in gear and help me figure out how to get off of this damn ship!”

Azdaja looked up, and Ardata could see that tears were beading up around his eyes, popping off into little bubbles when they got large enough. He sobbed and looked back down at the palmhusk.

“What the hell is it, Sergeant?!”

Azdaja shook his head — “Commander… my matesprit… I… I think she’s dead.” He stared at the palmhusk. “I haven’t heard anything from her in a long time and… she was one of the soldiers planetside… I just have such a bad feeling about what happened.”

“Look, Sergeant, if you can’t pull yourself together and help, then don’t bother me with any of this shit.” She pulled herself along the hand-holds on the side of the corridor and flew down further, back toward the bridge.

After a few minutes, she almost flew directly into the two ceruleans that had come with Amisia onto the ship — the scrawny, wiry one with the half-shaved haircut and the larger one — the cerulean commando.

“Please tell me that you’re not in the midst of some alcohol-fueled existential crisis,” Ardata said with a low groan.

“What? No!” The scrawny one — Mallek, that was his name — exclaimed. “We want to get the fuck off this ship!”

“Well, good luck with that,” Ardata said. “Everything is sealed off into hard vacuum out of here. All the escape pods are either blocked off or damaged to the point of not working.”

Mallek put up a hand. “Actually, there’s one thing that might still work.”

Three eyes went wide as Ardata looked him over. “And what might _that_ be?”

“So… your hall of records… it has a backup protocol. Basically, the library within the hall of records can seal itself off and eject down to the planet to preserve the records…”

Ardata squinted at him — “I’m familiar with the protocol. It has no life support and no way to secure passengers.”

“I know,” Mallek said quickly, “but it has shielding against reentry and we can jury-rig something to at least survive the re-entry. For life support… uh… we’re gonna need all the evac suits we can find.”

She was looking at him skeptically — but this was the best plan she’d heard yet. The hall of records was intact, and there was no reason to suspect that the backup systems had been taken offline. It was an extremely long chance, but if they could set it up right it might actually be survivable. Not pleasant, but definitely survivable.

“Fine.” Ardata looked at Mallek. “You go set the software part of it up, and grab someone from engineering and have them start ripping out acceleration seats to weld into the library. If you see Initiate Gorjek floating around out there, tell him to get his drunk ass in there and help haul shit around.”

Mallek nodded and pushed off, headed in the direction of the hall of records. After he’d gone, Remele looked at Ardata closely.

“What are we supposed to do then, Commander?”

“We’re gonna go talk to your commander and figure out where the fuck all of your evac suits are.”

* * *

The door to the Commander’s ready room by the bridge was open, so Ardata was able to go right inside to find Amisia. The indigo blood was curled up like a grub, floating in the middle of the room, softly shaking as she cried to herself. Ardata rolled her eyes — this one was barely an adult, let alone ready for the kind of thing they would encounter offworld. Jumping into a role as some kind of leader of a failed coup wasn’t doing them any favors either.

“Come on, brat, let’s go!” Ardata called as she came in through the doorway. “We’ve got a way out but we need you to tell us where you’ve stashed your evac suits.”

The only response was the sound of Amisia sobbing.

“I don’t have time for this!” Ardata felt the anger boiling up inside her. This _wiggler_ was going to jeopardize everything because she’d gotten in over her head! If she’d just left well enough alone, then Ardata would still be flying the Empire’s flag and the Iustitia would be fine.

Did she _really_ believe that? Was the Empress planning to let the potential of something like the Iustitia stand in light of her new plans? Or was it more likely that they would’ve been on the receiving end of a drone strike or a hit from the railgun on the Pink Moon?

“Let me talk to her,” Remele said quietly. She floated past Ardata and stopped herself near Amisia, gathering the smaller troll in her arms. Ardata rolled her eyes and muttered to herself — of _course_ she would treat her like a small wiggler. Probably why Amisia was so _weak_ now.

Remele spoke in a low, soft voice that Ardata could barely hear… like a purrbeast mewling to its young. “Amisia… look… we think we found a way out of here, okay?”

Amisia looked up and shook her head. “What does it matter? Everything’s all fallen apart now. You saw what the Empress said…”

“Yeah, I did. But if we get out of here then we at least have a _chance_ at something resembling a life. We have a chance to live down there, even if we’re on the run… but if you stay up here then…” She trailed off, but the implication was clear.

But Amisia shook her head again. “I don’t care. I’m so tired… I’m tired of all of this. Tired of having to lead people into… into what? And now the Empress… this thing she’s doing is gonna destroy what we worked for, isn’t it?”

“Maybe? But we still have our lives,” Remele responded. “We can take those and do something with them — even if it’s not as big as you once thought it would be.”

The whole conversation was turning incredibly boring — Ardata interrupted, clearing her throat — “This is charming, but if you’re not going to come with us, then just stay here. I’ll find the evac suits myself and you can float here and bask in your own pity until this ship is struck from the sky.” She turned to head out of the room, not caring one bit whether either of them came with her.

“Wait.” The sound of Amisia’s voice from behind her, stronger than before. Ardata stopped herself and turned. She wasn’t expecting what she saw — instead of the small, scared girl curled up into a ball, Amisia was glaring at Ardata with a burning, flaring hatred. “You know what… it doesn’t matter. I’ll come with you just so that you don’t have the last laugh. I’ll do anything to outlast you… to prove to you that I’m not just some scared, useless wiggler.”

She pushed off toward Ardata. “And if you try to undermine me again… I’ll kill you myself.”

Ardata started to laugh at the threat, but she stopped herself. Something in Amisia’s eyes had changed, and Ardata knew that look. It was the look of young soldiers who’d seen their first firefight or young Fleet officers after their first engagement. The look of someone who’d finally seem beyond some indefinable veil in the cosmos and no longer gave two shits if they lived or died, but they would gladly take someone else out just for the chance to not have to go out alone.

“Fine,” Ardata said sharply. “Let’s go find the damn equipment and get the hell out of here.”

* * *

They’d managed to at least get down to the end of the central corridor before the first railgun round hit the bridge. It was different than Ardata had imagined it — the sudden rush of noise and the bridge simply went from being there to not being there anymore. The splinters of metal debris kicked up and flew in all directions.

If they’d been closer… if the emergency blast door hadn’t done their job… if any number of things had gone differently, then they would’ve been killed immediately. The blast doors sealed away the corridor almost instantly, and the pressure quickly equalized.

Remele, Ardata, and Amisia all stared at each other.

The next minute became a frantic struggle to pull themselves down the corridor, rushing toward the hall of records. Ardata felt the blood rushing to her head — the sudden and inescapable roar of panic in her ears. She’d been a minute from being inside of the reach of the damage from the railgun.

The Iustitia was already listing off-course, but it wouldn’t matter for much longer. They were surely preparing the second shot with the railgun, and it would hit _somewhere_ else and there was a good chance that they would be _in_ that somewhere… or near enough that it wouldn’t make a difference.

Pulling themselves down a level, they finally reached the hall of records — Mallek was there, holding a still-drunk Tagora by the collar.

“What the fuck just happened?!” he screamed. “What was that?!”

“The bridge is gone,” Ardata snapped at him. “We’re leaving now.”

“What about the evac suits?! The library module is… it’s not going to have much air.”

“How much does it have?” Ardata asked, already moving through the door to the hall of records. Mallek followed closely after with Amisia, and Remele brought up the rear, dragging Tagora with her.

“Air? I don’t know… maybe ten minutes?! I have no idea!”

She did a quick calculation in her head. “Re-entry is maybe eight minutes until we hit atmosphere that’s breathable. Good enough.” She pushed herself along toward the library module. She could see that at least some of the flight seats had already been welded into place. At least the engineering staff had worked quickly. “Anyone who doesn’t have a seat lies on the fucking floor.”

“We can’t do this!” Mallek yelled. “This could get people killed!”

Ardata turned on him and glared down at him, three pupils fixed dead on his eyes. “We just got hit with a planetary railgun. We have no more bridge and we’re already losing control. Next one will probably be in the reactor core, and then we’re fucking screwed.” She slipped into one of the flight seats and buckled herself in tightly. “We’re leaving and we’re leaving now.”

Mallek grunted, but he strapped himself in as well. Nearby, Remele had already buckled Tagora into a flight seat. Amisia was next, along with the pair of olive blood engineers that had been helping to weld everything into place.

“Where’s everyone else?!” Mallek yelled. “We’ve got at least twenty more crew!”

Before she could answer, Ardata felt the rumble of another impact — a hard hit that shook the frame of the Iustitia and sent them into the start of a tumbling spin.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, we’re going now. Seal this off and launch!”

Nodding, Remele hit a button by the entrance to the library module, and the heavy blast doors sealed and locked into place. Finally, she dragged herself over to the emergency release lever and pulled it up and down three times. As quickly as she could, Remele pulled herself to one of the last two flight seats and pulled the safety straps tight.

Ardata held her breath. Outside, she could hear the sounds of someone pounding on the door.

_I have over five hundred thousand souls on my conscience… what’s one more?_

She closed her eyes.

There was a blast that she didn’t _hear_ , but _felt_ reverberate through the library module.

And suddenly, they were in freefall, dropping away toward the planet.

The acceleration came up suddenly, and even though Ardata was prepared for it, it still caught her offguard. Even her sweeps in the Fleet hadn’t made her even remotely ready for this. She’d been under launch acceleration before, but this was different — a dropping away and freefalling down that was uniquely terrifying to experience. She wondered how long the oxygen would actually last — how long it would be before some failure of the system cooked them alive or shattered their every bone on impact.

With no monitors and no viewports, there was no way to know what was happening back on the Iustitia. No way to witness the destruction firsthand. She knew that she’d sent several dozen crew to their deaths already… but what did it even matter?

The Empire, in the truest sense of the word, won. Not the Empress. Not the High Imperator or whatever ghost of a legacy he’d left behind. None of those… but the _Empire_ itself. The abstract concept of what Alternia was. What Alternia would always be.

Ardata cursed herself for being so ignorant to it before — for not seeing just how deeply everything ran. For not understanding her own part in it.

They were hitting the atmosphere now — Ardata could feel the rumble of anticipation.

Soon, they would hit the hard stop of the first bit of real atmosphere, and then they see whether or not this was a good plan. The air was already feeling stale — was that her imagination or was the oxygen already running low?

All of a sudden, the floor jolted upwards as the combination of thrusters and heavier atmosphere ran up to meet the library module as it fell.

And Ardata Carmia blacked out.


	50. Comfort, in Distress or Otherwise

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1119 local time (0219 AUT)

Stelsa and Tyzias arrived back to the entrance of the caverns with no fanfare — no welcoming throngs that came out to greet them and laude them for their great accomplishments and heroic devotion to the cause of the revolution. Instead, they simply walked into the half-hidden entrance together, exhausted and worn thin from the long journey back from the city.

As soon as they were out of the open, Stelsa saw Tyzias visibly relax. She could feel the same thing happening to herself — the same knowledge that being out in the open meant being vulnerable to those strange drones that now flew overhead. They’d seen the announcement from the Empress — everyone had seen the announcement from the Empress. All of the pieces of the puzzle were finally assembled — except that someone had simply wiped them from the table and thrown the box down instead.

The picture was right there — stark and inevitable. The work they’d been doing over the last half-sweep suddenly felt so incredibly insignificant. All of the time spent building contacts and seeking to understand the inner workings of the Empire in a way that would enable them to both predict their foe and ultimately defeat them…

All of it was now worthless.

There was always, Stelsa had learned, another side to things. There was the world that they saw — the world that they could predict and anticipate. Then, on the other hand, there was the shadow world — the world that existed but was hidden for as long as it needed to be before revealing itself at the worst possible time.

Stelsa wasn’t even angry right now… instead, she was just tired. She was tired from running, then from walking, and now it felt like even standing would be too much for her to bear. As she and Tyzias shuffled their way down into the caverns, she was convinced that every step would find her laid out flat on the ground.

They ran into Bronya on the way down, and the jade blood simply looked at the two of them. She saw the dust and the dirt and the blood still clinging to them and she didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to say anything.

Stelsa took Tyzias by the hand and led her down to the quarters that the two of them shared — the small set of rooms that had been their home for half a sweep. That would either be their home for many sweeps to come or only a few cycles or perigees more… all depending on something they couldn’t see and had no control over.

She shut the door and leaned heavily up against it.

They were finally home… whatever that meant.

* * *

Tyzias was pacing back and forth inside their respiteblock, clinging to her palmhusk with a desperation that was barely concealed. Stelsa knew the reason — that she hadn’t heard from her new moirail in hours. That all of the people that they’d sent out could have easily met the same fate that so many of the others had.

Stelsa thought about Konyyl, the olive-blood that they barely knew who’d been willing to put her life on the line to help people that were, effectively, strangers to her. She didn’t _want_ to think about her, but she did. For all of its brutality, there was kindness on Alternia — there were countless people who did the right thing because it was the right thing… who cared about each other and tried their damndest to make the hell that they lived in at least somewhat bearable.

It didn’t matter _what_ the Empress did, because there would always be those people.

That was what Stelsa told herself as she crossed the room and wrapped Tyzias in her arms. Tyzias let the palmhusk drop to the ground with a clatter.

She began to sob — not even trying to hold back how she felt, Tyzias was crying and shaking in her arms. She was making sound, but it wasn’t speaking — just an incoherent, mumbling bawl that came out in starting fits. Stelsa ran her hands up and down on her matesprit’s back — a soothing motion that she’d used so many times in the past.

“I can’t fucking do this, Stelsa…” Tyzias choked the words out through sobs and buried her face against Stelsa’s shoulder. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be… whatever the fuck we’re supposed to be.”

Stelsa didn’t say anything. She held Tyzias close and made a soft _shoosh_ noise, the air whistling a little as it passed her pursed lips.

“I don’t wanna think about this anymore. Or see it whenever I close my eyes. I don’t want to worry which person I care about is going to be the next one to die.”

She wasn’t just talking about the last cycle, or even the last half-sweep anymore. Now she was talking about her whole _life_ — the entirety of the time she’d spent trapped inside the maw of the Empire.

“Stels… I really just want to forget all of this. At least for… I don’t know… five fucking minutes? Is that so much to ask?!” A bitter sigh escaped her and she shivered in Stelsa’s arms.

Stelsa kept her held tight in her arms as she spoke. “Why don’t we go get washed up and we can lie down? Does that sound good?”

Shaking, Tyzias nodded.

* * *

She kept holding Tyzias in the ablution block — holding her as the water ran down over both of them, the hot stream running from a muddy brown into clear as the collected filth of the last couple cycles was swept away down the drain. Stelsa closed her eyes and held on, feeling the combination of warmth and the sensation of her skin against her matesprit’s.

Under other circumstances, this would be something that was exciting… but right now it was less that more of a comfort. She felt _safe_ here with Tyzias — and she hoped that Tyzias felt the same about her. Stelsa kept her arms tightly around Tyzias’ shoulders and pulled her in close, pressing their hips together and tucking Tyzias’ head up to her shoulder.

“I’m scared…” Tyzias said weakly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the ablution chamber’s rushing water.

“What are you scared of?” Stelsa responded. She heard Tyzias sigh — felt the spray of droplets as a bit of the water was blown off of their lips.

“Scared that I’ll never be able to stop seeing this stuff… never be able to stop seeing the blood when I close my eyes. Scared I’ll never be able to not be scared anymore.” The laugh that came next was one of exhaustion, nothing else. “I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“Zizi… you don’t have to make it make sense. You feel however you feel… and no matter what, I love you.”

“I know, Stels. I know.”

Tyzias reached out, and Stelsa felt her hands clawing along her lower back. “I’m serious… I can’t be whatever the hell they want me to be. I’m not Polypa… I’m not you…”

The comment struck Stelsa — hit her right in the pusher. She stepped back from Tyzias and looked down at her… her matesprit was hanging her head, her hair hanging limp from the water and her face downcast. There was so much pain in that expression — such depths of despair that came from places of untapped anguish.

“Zizi… what do you mean?”

Tyzias shrugged. “I mean that you have this… _strength_ inside of you. And I thought I did too, but… I think I was wrong about that. I feel so empty lately. I feel so hollow and everything is always hard. Getting up in the evening… just getting out of the recupercoon is hard.”

She frowned. She hated to see Tyzias like this… but she had an idea.

“Zizi, why don’t we dry off? No sense in wasting all of the hot water standing here talking.”

Again, Tyzias shrugged — the way that she seemed so genuinely disinterested was heartbreaking.

“Sure… I guess.”

* * *

Out of the ablution block, Tyzias dried herself off in the most cursory way possible and then flopped down heavily on the loungeplank, sighing to herself. Stelsa dried off more carefully and sat on the edge of the loungeplank next to her.

“Stels… you know something weird?”

“Hmm?” Stelsa wasn’t sure where this was going, but the tone in Tyzias’ voice suggested a sense of deep, reflective melancholy.

“That book I read… the one that talked about the Signless… or Marvus’ story about the purple blood… I have no idea how any of those people’s actual stories went. I don’t know what happened to them off the pages. Were they people with actual lives? Matesprits? Kismeses? What about all the people they knew we never even hear about? The people they were friends with… that they lived with… the people they loved… or just fucked.” She laughed softly at her little joke. “You ever think about that? Because I sure have.”

“I guess not,” Stelsa replied thoughtfully. For more of her life, she’d tried to keep herself well-grounded. To make sure that she kept her head down because it was better to be a part of the system than to cease to exist entirely.

“Mmm… yeah, it’s a lot. But I wonder about us sometimes… what it would be like to look back on our lives and see everything from far away. I wonder what people would make of us.”

Stelsa reached out and put a hand gently on the back of Tyzias’ thigh and half-smiled, the corner of mouth pulling up to one side. “I honestly don’t know, Zizi.” She’d never thought much about she would be perceived — only about trying to do the right thing in her life. Whether or not that would be its own reward, she hadn’t yet decided.

Tyzias breathed out a sigh that sounded somewhere between thoughtful and longing. “You remember how we started seeing each other?”

She smiled — she remembered as if it had happened only a short while ago instead of sweeps in the past.

“You came up and very awkwardly asked me if I wanted to get dinner… or coffee, which you didn’t drink.”

Tyzias snorted out a laugh and smiled. “Yeah… I just wanted to talk to you really bad. I was spending a perigee working up the courage to talk to you.”

“What?!” Stelsa exclaimed. “A whole perigee?!” She found herself flushing deep teal in spite of her efforts to remain composed. She put her left hand in front of her chest and sighed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

Tyzias nodded.

“Oh my… Zizi — I had no idea.”

“I mean, considering what happened not long after.”

“You told me I had a _cute ass,_ Zizi!” Stelsa’s face burned, but she was smiling. “You said that to me as if it were no big deal at all.”

“Well… it happens like that, sometimes.” Tyzias pushed herself onto her side and turned to look at Stelsa. It was very hard not to stare… and then Stelsa realized that she didn’t _have_ to avoid staring and let her eyes roam over her matesprit. Tyzias cleared her throat and her face got serious. “I seem to recall that what happened was I was staying over in your spare room…” She made eye contact with Stelsa, who knew _exactly_ where this was going.

“You knocked on the door and told me, and I’m quoting here — _Zizi, I’ve been thinking about you for the past cycle and I can’t get you off my mind._ ”

“You invited me into the room after that!” Stelsa stammered, her face flushed. “Y-you… you _undressed_ me and then you…” She glanced quickly downward and bit her bottom lip. “You know exactly what you did!”

Tyzias nodded, and Stelsa noticed that she’d slid a bit closer. Much closer. “I know exactly what I did.” She wrapped her arms around Stelsa’s bare waist and squeezed. For a bit, she didn’t move from there or say anything else. She felt comfortable like this — felt _safe_ like this.

“Y’know what I was thinking about when it came to how people see _us?_ ”

Stelsa shrugged, and Tyzias squeezed a little tighter, her hands creeping in around the sides of Stelsa’s thighs.

“I was thinking that it doesn’t matter,” Tyzias said plainly. “That I’ll make whatever different I can and find whatever happiness I can. With you. For as long as possible.”

“That sounds… nice.”

And it did. It sounded like the closest thing to an actual answer to a question that had been on Stelsa’s mind ever since they’d escaped the Iustitia — _what next?_ Where would they go? What would they do? What was the next step in their lives outside of the framework of the Empire’s constant control?

“Aaaaanyway, Stels, I was wondering something else.”

She nodded. “What?”

“That thing I did, that you were just now tastefully alluding to?”

Once more, her face was a firestorm of teal. “Yes?”

“You want me to do it again?”

The feeling of Tyzias’ fingers running along her thighs — exploring. Teasing. But… asking for permission. Stelsa blushed deeply, and she nodded.

“Yes.”

And for a while after that, neither of them worried about anything outside of the small room that they shared — the life that they shared — together. And as they finished and lay in the warm glow that they'd made for each other, Stelsa Sezyat realized something.

That this — not the _place,_ but the people inside of it... the woman she was now holding in her arms... and all of the memories and experiences and struggles and joy and sadness and pain and love that had ever shared or would ever share — was her home.


	51. Long Time Gone

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1323 local time (0423 AUT)

Chixie had been sitting by the entrance to the cave for hours, waiting nervously to see what would happen. She knew that she’d gotten through to Elwurd. That had to be enough. It was all that she could do… a hard fact that she was still trying to come to grips with. She realized that at a certain point, she’d come to need a certain degree of control over everything in her life. She supposed that was part of surviving someone like Zebruh — it was hard for her to let go of that need because it brought her right back to the last time she hadn’t had control.

It wasn’t cold, and yet Chixie shivered.

From behind her, she heard the soft padding of feet. Somehow, she knew exactly who was there — “Hey, Bronya…”

Without another word, Bronya dusted a space on the boulder off and sat down next to Chixie, folding her hands neatly in her lap. She wasn’t sure what she should say to the jade blood, but it became quickly apparent that she didn’t _need_ to say anything. Bronya was, after all, in the same position that she was — they both had a reason to be out here, after all.

Bronya was the one who broke the silence — “I’m afraid… all the time.” She heaved out a sigh and looked down at her folded hands, idly rubbing her left index finger with her other hand. “I’m afraid that she’s not going to come back. That whatever mission they go on that’s just… it.”

“I wish it wasn’t like this. It’s not fucking _fair!_ ” Chixie felt the tears starting to pool behind her eyes, stinging and burning and threatening to give the real depth of her feelings away. She didn’t even care — she leaned forward and began to cry. “I wanted to try to change things. With my music… getting involved in the revolutionary movement.”

Bronya didn’t say anything, but Chixie didn’t really need her to. She’d never been ready for any of what had happened — she felt like she’d been given a view of reality that few people ever got to have, and no one really got to hold onto.

“You mind staying with me here for a while?” Chixie asked. Next to her Bronya shifted and reached out to put a hand on her knee.

“Of course. For a while longer, yet.”

* * *

There wasn’t any dramatic reveal or fanfare when the others came back. Chixie saw the shapes of the lusii on the horizon well before they were close enough to make out the specific riders. Only three of the lusii though — the lack of the last one filled Chixie’s mind with creeping dread. She wondered if Elwurd was the missing rider — if she’d been just a little bit too late in warning Elwurd and she’d paid the price for it.

As the riders drew closer, Chixie realized that two figures were hunched on the same deercat — they were coming back with all four of them! Chixie almost shouted with joy, sitting anxiously on the boulder next to Bronya and tapping her foot anxiously as they approached the entrance to the caverns. But one of the figures was half-slumped on the back of the lusus. Once more, Chixie felt the cold hand of fear grip her.

Finally, the lusii rode up to the cavern entrance, and one-by-one the riders dismounted.

Polypa — apparently completely unharmed and looking as composed as ever. She nodded to Chixie and Bronya and offered to take the lusii around to their portion of the caverns.

Cirava — obviously shaken and bruised, but overall looking basically fine. They nodded grimly to the others and walked past, into the caverns.

Daraya — cut and covered in dirt, her eyes growing long with a staring void. She ran to Bronya without saying a word and enveloped her in a hug… there were tears streaking the dirt on her face.

Elwurd…

She dismounted last, and the least steadily of all of them. She was clutching her side and walking unsteadily, limping toward Chixie… and as soon as she saw her, Elwurd’s face lit up.

“Hey…”

Chixie was up and running toward her in an instant. She could see blood soaking a corner of her shirt.

“What the hell _happened_ to you?!” Chixie put both hands on her shoulders and Elwurd leaned her head over, propping it on Chixie’s hand.

“I… fell.” She smiled weakly. “No big deal, right?”

She needed medical attention — she’d been injured, possibly badly. Letting Elwurd lean on her shoulder, Chixie led her inside the caverns, away from the glaring light of the pale twin moons up in the sky.

* * *

Elwurd’s injuries were mostly the sort that would require time to heal and nothing more. Lanque had helped to bandage her midsection, chiding her the entire time in a way that he must’ve picked up from Bronya or Lynera. When he was done, she had a fresh set of bandages and a wrap around her midsection to help brace her ribs. With a surprisingly stern admonishment not to do anything too strenuous (a statement delivered with an exaggerated wink), Lanque had turned Elwurd back over to Chixie.

They were back in Chixie’s room — the room where they’d been so intimate together in a time that felt like forever ago. Chixie wondered if she would ever fully comprehend everything that was happening. Speaking to the dead and reaching out to people separated by thousands of miles of space.

She helped Elwurd undress fully, taking the dirty, bloodstained clothes and setting them aside to be washed later. Chixie was careful — careful with Elwurd’s injuries as she removed the last of her clothing.

“You need to rest,” Chixie said softly. “Please.”

Elwurd reached out, and suddenly Chixie felt a hand behind her head, grasping her hair and pulling her close. Put that was all — Elwurd was waiting for her to say something.

Chixie closed the rest of the distance and kissed her, closing her eyes and letting the increasingly familiar, comfortable feeling wash over her. She let it linger — let the feeling continue and wished it would never have to end. When they were done, Chixie pulled back, breathing heavily.

“I was worried,” she said. “I thought that you were dead.”

When Elwurd answered, she wasn’t being her usual flippant self — there was a deep sincerity in her eyes. “Almost. If you hadn’t warned me, I think we all would’ve been. There were some of those drones…” She trailed off and shrugged her shoulders nervously, looking down. “That was real, wasn’t it? You really found me in my dreams and we talked?”

Chixie smiled and nodded. “Yes.” She looked away nervous and smiled. “I… I wanted to wake you up with a kiss on the cheek, but Bronya ended up slapping you.”

Elwurd laughed at that. “Oh shit, you’re right.” She rubbed her cheek unconsciously. “I guess she’s still a little pissed at how things ended with us.”

“I don’t think it’s that, actually. But maybe you two do need to talk things out a bit.” Chixie hoped that they would get a chance to talk about anything… the alternative was a life on the run, after all.

“Yeah, maybe. Later, though. I gotta fucking sleep!” Elwurd walked over to the recupercoon and slid over the edge and lay down in the thick sopor slime. She propped her chin on the edge and grinned. “You gonna join me?”

She would, Chixie realized, very much like to do whatever it was Elwurd was implying. She wanted to continue what they’d done before… to explore what she was comfortable with. What made her feel good. And it wasn’t the right time for any of that. “You’re injured. You need to _rest!_ ”

Elwurd rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant! I just want to sleep. I’d just… I’d like to have you holding me while I do.”

That seemed like an acceptable compromise. Chixie shrugged off her sweater and stepped out of her pants, then carefully took everything else off and neatly piled it on the nearby dresser. She smiled at Elwurd — she still felt a little self-conscious about being naked in front of her, but she was rapidly discovering that the little thrill it gave her was worth the momentary embarrassment.

“Still don’t know what you see in me,” she muttered. She closed the distance between the two of them and bent down, putting her face in front of Elwurd’s.

“You’re beautiful,” she said under her breath — said it to no one in particular, not even to Chixie, really. It was more than that — an affirmation of something that mattered to Elwurd, and that was something that was taking even more getting used to. Chixie leaned in and kissed Elwurd softly on the lips.

“Thanks. Mind if I join you?”

Elwurd smirked and settled back into the sopor, leaving room for Chixie to climb in. She hoisted herself over the edge and settled down into the thick, warm slime. Careful not to bump into Elwurd’s broken ribs, she put her arms around the cerulean and pulled her in close.

“Still don’t quite believe everything that happened,” Elwurd muttered softly. “I hope… I hope Mallek was able to do the thing that you wanted.” She sounded sleepy.

“I never told you I was going to see Mallek…”

She felt Elwurd shrug against her. “Figured that was your plan, since you can apparently talk to folks in their dreams. He’s the only other person I know who could do what we needed. Hope he was able to, anyway. Besides, I know you wouldn’t have pulled me out of there without a plan to make sure everyone was okay.”

Chixie felt herself shrinking down against Elwurd. “That’s… not true.”

“What?”

“I had no idea if Mallek would be able to help. I still don’t know if he succeeded. But I realized that I’d rather live on the run with you than live in these caverns without you.”

“That’s…” Elwurd laughed. “That’s dumb as shit, Chix…” She sighed and bent over to kiss Chixie’s head, right near the base of her horns. It felt good to be kissed there, and Chixie smiled. “But thank you. I love you so much.”

Chixie wasn’t sure if she was ever going to get used to hearing those words said with such intent. The whole idea of being with someone who didn’t want to actively hurt her was so… strange. She smiled and leaned against Elwurd’s chest.

“I love you too.” Her own voice sounded small, and maybe a little bit afraid. “Please don’t… don’t do that again.”

This time, the laugh reverberated through Elwurd’s chest. She immediately winced and groaned — it had apparently been a bit much for her ribs. “Oh shit… no, I’m planning to kind of lay low for a while. Maybe figure out how to do this stuff a little less out in the open. Little less getting shot at.”

“A lot less getting shot at,” Chixie said sternly. “Please.”

Elwurd held her close, and Chixie closed her eyes and let herself drift. She hadn’t realized how tired she was — how much she wanted to sleep. She didn’t think she’d visit the other place this time. Maybe in the future she would — she was almost certain of it. But for now, all she was going to do was fall into a deep sleep in the arms of the woman she loved.


	52. One Piece of Three

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

the Free Jade Caverns - 1347 local time (0447 AUT)

Daraya let herself be led by Bronya down into the caverns, past the common rooms and the nursery, and finally into the meeting room. She didn’t really want to think of it as the “war room” anymore — not after everything. She let herself be sat in a chair and asked if she was okay — was she injured? Did she need medical assistance?

“I’m…” _Fine?_ No, that word wasn’t the right one, and even thinking it brought a shiver of revulsion. “I’m alive. Scraped up a bit and bruised, but nothing that bad.” She went silent after that, unwilling or unable to continue with anything more than the basic description required to assuage Bronya’s worry.

Bronya hovered over her, looking terrified. Maybe not terrified of her being hurt physically, but the distinct look of primal fear was there all the same. She stared at Daraya for a while, saying nothing — as if she didn’t _know_ what to say. Finally, she muttered something about waiting a minute and bustled off.

Daraya sat by herself, and she felt more lonely than she ever had before. Bending over, she finally let herself open up — let the accumulated cycles of grief and anguish pour out into the hot tears that boiled by her eyes and dripped down below. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shook and sobbed and waited for the waves of emotion to pass and leave her feeling numb once again.

_Numb,_ she could deal with. It was a feeling that had become so familiar over the sweeps that it didn’t even bother her anymore. She’d spent so much time looking to feel _something_ to fill that space in… and she kept thinking that she had it. Her petulant acts of rebellion. Her defiance of the Empire. Her kismesitude with Lynera. Her red feelings for Bronya. All of it had been in service to finding some way to feel something other than a long and empty void that stretched out into forever… and then ended in darkness.

_I can’t do this anymore._ She couldn’t keep struggling against something that was so overbearing — so overwhelming that the size and shape of it couldn’t even be seen anymore.

“Daraya?” The voice from the entrance to the meeting room was shaking. Daraya turned to see Lynera standing there with Bronya’s hand on her shoulders. Before Daraya even had a chance to react, Lynera was across the room, on her knees in front of Daraya, and hugging her tightly. “You’re back! You’re safe!”

Daraya put her arms around Lynera and nodded. “I’m back… I’m safe…”

“We were so _worried!_ You have no idea how much we worried! Bronya was… I was… we were so _scared_ that something horrible had happened to you!”

There was another feeling that started in the pit of Daraya’s stomach and blossomed out, flowing through her. She loved this woman. She loved both of them. She felt _bad_ that she’d made them worried, but she also felt such an immense _relief_ that the three of them were together again that it threatened to burst right out of her blood pusher.

“I don’t… wanna go back out there,” she murmured, pressing her face against the spot between the end of Lynera’s sweater and the beginning of the soft skin of her neck. “I really don’t…” She let herself trail off and closed her eyes tightly. Lynera smelled the same way Lynera always did — that soap or body wash that she always used that had some faintly perfumed scent to it. Once, Daraya had hated that smell just a little, but she’d found herself associating it more and more with someone she cared deeply about.

Bronya cleared her throat and Daraya opened her eyes to see the other jade blood take a step toward them. “You don’t _have_ to go out. You don’t _have_ to do any of that.”

Daraya met her eyes, and she hoped that Bronya would see that what she was about to say wasn’t meant with even a shred of bad intention.

“I don’t want to stay here all the time either.” She closed her eyes again and squeezed Lynera, who was starting to choke up and cry softly. “I don’t think we should be closed off… we’ll never survive that way.”

“You saw the announcement? The things the Empress said?” Bronya asked — her voice was thick and heavy with worry. Daraya nodded.

“Yeah, we watched it on the way back. It’s…” _Terrifying. I’m so scared right now._ She sighed.

“It’s terrifying… I’m _so_ scared right now.” A pause — a beat of silence in between the thoughts. “But if we keep hiding, then nothing will ever get better. I don’t think that what we were trying to do will work anymore… I don’t think we can face this head on.”

She sighed — there was so much that she wanted to say… that she _needed_ to say to both of them. They needed to eventually talk about the future — about how they were going to deal with the way that things had changed. They needed to talk about the possibility that they might have to abandon these caverns too, eventually.

There were things that she didn’t plan to talk to either of them about — things that had taken up residence in the deep corners of her mind that made her feel… unclean. When she’d had a chance to rest, she would go find Tyzias and talk to her about that. Of all the people she knew, her new moirail was probably the best-equipped to know how she felt about what she’d had to do. Polypa was too _comfortable_ with the idea that she just had to do violence sometimes, and the others hadn’t been through everything she had in the same way.

“There’s more happening out there,” Daraya said. “More than we’ll ever fully understand or be able to deal with.”

Bronya shifted uncomfortably, and for a moment Daraya wondered what it was she wasn’t saying. What thing she _knew_ but wasn’t _saying._ It didn’t matter. Bronya was entitled to have her own private business, and Daraya trusted that she would explain if and when it became important.

She sighed. “I’m just tired is all. Everything that’s been happening has been so much to deal with and I’m _tired._ Just kinda want to get washed up and go to sleep.”

* * *

She’d asked to be alone, and both of her matesprits had immediately agreed. She knew they were both outside in the hallway, waiting anxiously in case she called out for them… in case she needed anything. Daraya smiled to herself — she was glad to have them.

But she needed to be properly alone with her thoughts for a while. So she’d walked back to her chambers, shut the door, and decided to go take a shower.

Daraya let the water of the ablution chamber wash over her, turned up as hot as was comfortable, then turned up just a hair beyond that. The dust and grit quickly washed off down the drain, and the water poked and prodded at muscles that were sore from exertion and stress and the uncontrolled release of adrenaline. She would be aching for the next few cycles.

They would let her sleep for a while, then they would wake her up and call a meeting with everyone. They needed to talk about what had happened, and what they were going to do next. Once upon a time, the NADF had been talking about ways to recruit new fighters to their cause and help the populace rise up against the Alternian Army. Now it seemed like the Army were just as much of a target as any of them were… at least the Army that tried to remain planetside.

Daraya wasn’t going to pretend to understand the nuances of the situation — the reasons why the Empress had decided to act the way she did. It didn’t matter to her, because everything was still the same regardless of the reasons why.

She sighed to herself and traced a hand idly along her arm, flicking droplets of water off to the side. At least they were all still alive… there were so many times she was convinced that she was going to die — that someone she cared about was going to die. If she never had to feel that again, it would be okay with her.

“It’s gonna be fine…” she muttered to herself. It was a lie. Not the first lie she’d told herself, nor would it be the last.

Shutting off the water, Daraya got out and dried herself off. She didn’t even bother to dress herself, instead walking right over to the recupercoon and slipping into the sopor in one, fluid motion. The warmth slid up around her, already working to relax still-tense muscles and soothe the spots where she’d hit the dirt hard enough to bruise.

As long as they were all still alive, there would alway be another tomorrow to try to make things better.

_Maybe even beyond that._

She didn’t know why she thought it — didn’t know why it appeared in her mind with such utter certainty. She didn’t care. She closed her eyes, let herself drift, and softly, quietly, fell asleep.

And in another place — a place with golden spires that seemed to stretch up into forever and clouds that shifted and told of a future that was different than before — Daraya Jonjet opened her eyes.


	53. After the Fire Dies

13th of the 4th Perigee, 4th Sweep…

Northern Alternia - 0756 local time (1056 AUT)

Mallek poked his head out of the escape hatch — it was fully dark now, the sun finally having dropped under the horizon a half hour before. The others had already left the library module — their makeshift escape pod — and were scattered around, sitting together in small groups and trying to figure out what to do next.

They’d survived the trip down, at least.

Using the nearby hand-holds as leverage for his feet, Mallek pushed himself out of the hatch and onto the side of the library module. It had hit the soft, loamy dirt hard enough to bury half of itself, and the result was that the whole thing was canted at an angle. Teetering precariously, Mallek pushed off and dropped down to the dirt below, hitting awkwardly and stumbling forward. At least it was soft.

He wasn’t entirely sure where they were, but given the nearby forests he suspected they were probably somewhere in Northern Alternia. They’d all passed out on re-entry and awoken some amount of time later, so his sense of what had happened and when was still extremely distorted. Mallek stumbled forward, toward the area where the others had gathered.

It looked like everyone who’d been in the library module had survived the trip down. Ardata and Remele were sitting together and talking quietly, and it looked like Tagora was fully sobered up and chatting with the olive blood engineers.

Off to the side of all of them, Amisia was sitting by herself. She was hunched up, her knees curled into her chest.

Possibly against his better judgement, Mallek walked over to where she was sitting.

“Amisia…”

She looked up, and Mallek didn’t see any of the blaze in her eyes that had been there before. Instead, she looked very much like a small, scared wiggler. She shrugged, and nodded.

“You’re here to gloat, like Ardata?” She sniffled. “She was just being a bitch.”

Mallek didn’t bother to sit down — in all honesty he didn’t want to talk to Amisia very much. “You killed a bunch of her crew and took over her ship.”

“I did that because it was _necessary!_ Anyway, she killed so many _more_ people!”

“So? The High Imperator killed even more. You think it matters all that much to anyone which of you is the _worst_ when you’re all bad?”

Amisia looked hurt, but Mallek didn’t care.

“I’m done with this. I’m done trying to find the least-bad path. This world’s changed, and you know it. Keep your head down or don’t, I guess… but I don’t think your bullshit highblood revolution is going anywhere.”

She sniffled. “I was only trying to do what was best for everyone!”

“Yeah, sure… keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll get more true.” Mallek didn’t say anything else to her — didn’t want to look at her anymore. Turning away, he walked over toward where Tagora was sitting on the ground. He wanted to talk to Remele eventually, but not while Ardata was still there. Whatever Ardata was getting up to, Mallek had a good idea that he didn’t want anything to do with it.

Mallek didn’t bother to ask — he just sat down next to Tagora, feeling the soft dirt rise up to meet him. Tagora looked over and groaned, holding his head.

“Can you not _sit_ so loudly? Between the hangover and the rough landing, I’m feeling a bit peaked.”

“Sorry.” Mallek shrugged. “Just wanted to talk to someone who hasn’t been involved in mass murder.

“Oh?” Tagora smiled slowly. “Well, I’ve never been involved in _any_ murder.” He looked up and made a _so-so_ motion with his hand. “Well… not _directly_ anyway. Tagora Gorjek, Legislacerator.” Tagora stuck out a hand.

Mallek thought for a minute. _Oh what the fuck._ He shook Tagora’s hand quickly. “We technically met — sort of — up on the Iustitia. Besides, I know who you are. I remember the commercials.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Tagora rolled his eyes and groaned. “I’ll never live that stupid thing down, will I? I tried to have the copies taken off of GrubTube but they said that I’d forfeited all my rights when I joined the Legiscorpus. Wonder if they’ll change their tune now…”

“Yeah, I don’t think GrubTube is gonna be really high on our priority list for a while.”

Tagora shrugged and looked down at the ground. He picked up a small chunk of dirt and tossed it. “Sure. Didn’t she used to be a streamer or something?” He was pointing at Ardata. “Sweeps ago…”

“Yeah, sure, like five sweeps back when we were still wigglers. I kinda feel like her life took a different turn, you know?” Mallek wasn’t sure that this had any relevance to anything — mostly it just sounded like Tagora was talking to keep himself talking. That was fine… Mallek wasn’t especially keen on the idea of having to face reality either. “Funny how people change.”

Mallek nodded. He was already tuning out what Tagora was saying — his thoughts drifting somewhere else.

“Hey,” he asked quietly. “Do you have a palmhusk I can borrow? I need to send a message to someone.”

Tagora’s smile turned predatory. “Oh? Well, it’ll cost y—” He saw Mallek’s glare and quickly muttered a “never mind” and handed Mallek a sleek, black palmhusk.

snakeBytes began chatting with gaegrl69nice on at 1107 AUT

Mallek

so i guess i = still trying this;   
even if you dont want to deal with me;

you need to know that it worked;   
your cavern != on the registry anymore;

all of you = safe;

Elwurd

wait a fucking minute!   
you decided to wait how fucking Long to say something?!

i’ve been tearing myseLf up over whether you actuaLLy got to that or we’d aLL have to fucking run for the rest of our Lives!

you couLdn’t have messaged me ANY sooner?!

Mallek

i = sorry;   
you = right about that;   
we hit planetside a few hours ago;   
should’ve messaged you sooner;

Elwurd

YES!

Look, maLLek, i know the Look of someone who was being used, okay?   
i get it. i reaLLy do   
but you and i aren’t just cooL aLL of a sudden

maybe one day but not now

Mallek

okay, that = fine;   
can we talk later though?;

Elwurd

i’LL have to get back to you on that one   
right now i’ve got too much on my mind

aLso i was LiteraLLy about to fuck my girLfriend when you messaged me you damn gapehoLe!   
if you hadn’t toLd me you fixed that shit with the drones i was gonna bLock your stupid nook-face ass!

now go away!   
i’ve got stuff to do!   
(make up whatever shitty sex joke you want just Leave me aLone)

Mallek cleared the message history off the palmhusk and handed it back to Tagora, who took it with a nod and cocked his head to the side.

“You have any specific plans now?”

Mallek wasn’t sure if he had any specific plans — he wasn’t sure what he was planning to do next. He was grateful that he’d removed his name and symbol from the caste registry sweeps ago. It would make hiding from the new drones a lot easier, assuming he kept his head down.

“No idea, Tagora. What about you?”

Tagora sighed and leaned back, propping himself up in the dirt. “No clue. I’m either on a cull list now or I’m registered as dead. Either way, I’m planning to keep a low profile for a while. Like… the rest of my life, most likely.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“You have any interest in maybe… teaming up for a while? You obviously know your way around the Imperial systems, and I know my way around the Alternian legal system. Could be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Mallek didn’t think that was strictly true anymore — for either of them. He had a feeling that the Imperial systems would mostly be collapsing, replaced with new versions of what they’d once been that required far less direct involvement to maintain. He doubted very much that he could hack those new drones, and was quite certain that Tagora wasn’t going to be able to argue with them.

But still, what difference did it make? At least he’d have someone to talk to who had considerably less blood on his hands than Amisia or Ardata. Maybe he could even convince Remele to come with them — she seemed like she might be open to the idea, and having her along would be useful.

“You know what? Sure, what the fuck.”

Tagora grinned at him. “Excellent! The Alternian Winged Talon Beast and the… uh… Burrow Dwelling Rodent of… whatever it is you’re good at, I suppose.”

“If you ever call me that again, I’ll abandon you at the first town we get to.”

“Fine,” Tagora grumbled. “You’re not gonna be any fun, are you?”

Mallek looked down at his hands — hands that felt like they had their fair share of blood of their own. “No, probably not.”

All around him, Mallek could hear the sounds of the night bearing in on them — the soft whisper of the birds in the trees and the scurrying of small rodents along the ground. The wind blew through the trees, shaking and rustling them before it flew across the dirt plain to where they were sitting.

There was nothing in the past for him anymore.

He supposed he’d learn to stop living in it… someday.


	54. She of the Purple and Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well holy shit it's been a hell of a ride! Thanks to my wonderful readers for sticking with me through it all!
> 
> If you liked these novels, please check out my other work! I've got lots of other content, both Hiveswap and otherwise!

Bronya stood on the golden parapet and sighed to herself, looking down over the bustling city below. Lately it had become more and more active — the small people who ran this place running from place to place, preparing for something that Bronya knew was inevitable. The more active it got, the more it reminded her of the places she knew back on Alternia.

Places that were now closed to her forever.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to happen when the dark veil finally came down on her — a hundred-fifty sweeps and then… blackness.

And then light that surrounded her, bathed her in a golden glow that was all-too-familiar. She had been awake once again. Awake, and alone. But not alone for long — she sought out Daraya and they were able to reunite in this place. Daraya went in and out of the waking world for sweeps more… and finally, one day, she woke up on Prospit for good.

She didn’t know how long it had been, exactly. The concept of time lost a lot of its meaning here in a world where it was forever daylight, but she got a vague sense of what was happening from watching the clouds. Sometimes, others showed up — people that she’d known in the waking world, or others that she didn’t know. Some of them stayed… some of them simply moved on to somewhere else and vanished from Prospit. She never saw them again.

Bronya stayed. She and Daraya spent their time together, enjoying each other’s company and exploring the world. She began to talk to the white-shelled inhabitants. She learned of their culture, language, and customs. She learned of the sister moon — the place called “Derse” — and the story of how the two would be fated to come into conflict one day in the far future.

Recently, she’d found others in the dreaming world who she didn’t know at all. Alternians who existed in a time that she wasn’t familiar with — an Alternia that existed at the end of the road started by the second Condescension hundreds of sweeps before. Deep inside, she hoped that everything she’d done had been enough. She hoped that the visions she saw of the Empire finally burning down would come to pass — that the new world that had been promised would finally become a reality.

Whether or not she would live to see it, she wasn’t sure. But at least, for now, she had her matesprit.

_One_ of her matesprits.

Bronya sensed the presence rather than heard any sound — Daraya was standing behind her, silent. She straightened up and motioned to her, sighing.

“You can come stand with me. I was just 1 — being melancholy and 2 — engaging in a bit of reflection.”

“Nasty combination,” Daraya said. She stood side-by-side with Bronya and leaned into her, pushing the warmth of her body close. Bronya felt her pusher jump a bit — she had once expected to find herself getting tired of seeing the same person for so long, but she’d never found that to be the case. Maybe because time worked differently here. Maybe because she was in love. She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

“Yes, it is.” She let out a long breath and tapped the railing she was leaning on with her fingertips. “I miss her, Daraya.”

She didn’t have to say who she meant — Daraya nodded and reached across to take her hand.

“I miss her too. Keep expecting her to show up here, but it never happens.”

“I feel like she’s out there somewhere…” Bronya looked up at the sky — up at the rolling clouds above — and furrowed her brow. “I have this faint sense of her, but I can’t seem to see her clearly.”

“Maybe it works differently when you become a rainbow drinker?” Daraya laughed. “That would figure, wouldn’t it?”

Bronya frowned. She’d tried to talk Lynera out of the idea — out of the quest to become immortal and continue her duty indefinitely. Bronya had said that they could find others — recruit newcomers to their cause. Their mother grub had taken ill and died sweeps before, but maybe they could reach out to another jade cavern. The world had changed so much — surely there were others who were just as unhappy with the Empire. Who would gladly help protect the charge that, Bronya knew, would one day spell its doom.

Lynera had outright refused. The years hadn’t been kind to them — so many had left, or died, or been killed off. She didn’t want to risk what they had, and she would gladly sacrifice her own sanity to ensure the safety of that fuschia egg.

No matter what Bronya or Daraya had said.

And then they’d both died, leaving Lynera to tend to the caverns herself. The thought of it made Bronya’s very soul ache deep inside of her. She missed Lynera so much… she knew Daraya felt the same.

“I’m sorry,” Daraya said. It was a force of habit — they’d had this exact conversation before. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s fine,” Bronya said — and she meant it. She turned and kissed Daraya on the cheek, then on the neck. “If she’s out there somewhere, I’m sure she remembers that we both love her.”

“Yeah,” Daraya mumbled. “I hope so. She was a bitch… but I loved her.” This too was a force of habit — Daraya had long-since abandoned any ill-will toward her matesprit hundreds of sweeps before they’d even died. The two of them seemed to have an almost innate connection — a sense of each other than was sometimes hard to fully explain.

She missed that. Missed seeing the two of them together as much as she missed Lynera in her arms. Missed the way that the three of them had settled into a dynamic that they all found comfortable.

Bronya leaned forward on the railing. “I just wonder what she—”

She stopped.

Out there, on the edge of her conscious mind, something rang out. Something was there that hadn’t been before. She put out a hand and grabbed Daraya’s arm.

“We need to go, now.”

* * *

It was only a short while before she reached the place where that strange feeling seemed to originate. An unassuming portion of the world — a small garden that had all manner of exotic plants surrounding a beautiful pond filled with crystal-clear water. Bronya had never been to this specific pond, but she’d been to plenty like it. She and Daraya liked to seek them out — the small gardens that dotted Prospit — and sit in them together. Each one was somehow different — subtle in their variation.

But this one was different in a way that Bronya had never expected.

Sitting in the middle of the garden, perched on the edge of a small bench and wearing robes of a deep, rich purple, was Lynera Skalbi.

She was humming to herself, and she was smiling.

Bronya felt her pusher race and the whole world constricted around her all at once. She ran forward, unthinking, and grabbed Lynera, pulling her up into a hug. Behind her, she could hear Daraya’s surprised yelp, then a set of running footsteps, and then a second set of arms was wrapped around Lynera.

“You’re here!” It was probably the most underwhelming thing that she’d ever said in her life, but the feeling behind it was as deep as an ocean.

Lynera smiled — she didn’t seem surprised to see them. “I’m here.”

“What happened?! Where were you?! Why are you here now?!” The questions kept surging up and spilling out — hundreds of sweeps worth of missing answers, and she couldn’t even think of what she wanted to know first. Lynera kept smiling, and tears speckled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

She spoke in a whisper. “I remember you. Both of you. I remember you.” She smiled — a smile full of the strangest kind of pain. A pain that ached in way that hurt, but you never wanted to feel anything else. The pain of a longing that was finally being satisfied — like the feeling of getting up and stretching your muscles after sitting for too long.

“We missed you so much!” Bronya leaned in, and she kissed Lynera on the lips. Six hundred and twelve sweeps’ worth of pent-up passion went into that kiss. _How did I know how long it was?_ She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be anywhere else or doing anything else or thinking about anything else.

Bronya pulled back, and Lynera turned to kiss Daraya, pulling her in close and threading her fingers in her hair. When it was done, Lynera looked back and forth between her two matesprits, smiling and crying in equal measure.

“I missed both of you. For so long… for so long after you both died. I thought you’d just be gone… I lived for so long, and I forgot so much. But I kept the egg safe… I kept the grub safe. I did what the stranger told me to do and I raised her until she was ready to go off and… then I made sure she was ready to fill _her_ destiny and then…”

She looked down, and the smile faltered. “It’s possible for a rainbow drinker to die, at least. I thought that if I couldn’t find you again — if I couldn’t find my memories — that it would at least mean I got to rest.”

When Lynera looked up, her smile was back — a sad-sweet smile that carried a lifetime of emotion on it. “But then… I woke up in that city with the purple towers. It had been so long since I was there. And somehow… I knew that you two were out here somewhere. I talked to the people that lived there… they told me about this place… and I started to fly.”

Lynera lifted a hand and brushed Bronya’s cheek gently, then Daraya’s. “I flew so far for so long, and then, finally… I saw this place. And I came in and I saw this beautiful garden and I knew that I just needed to sit here for a while. That was all I needed to do, finally… was sit.”

She started sobbing — but her face was lit up with joy. Lynera closed her eyes, whimpered, and grinned. “I knew you two would find me if I waited long enough!”

And then, suddenly, she stopped. She wiped her eyes and glanced back and forth between the two others, her face suddenly caught with an expression of sheer terror.

“You… you still care about me, right? You didn’t forget about me or start to hate me or blame me for not being there sooner?” She was breathing quickly. “I don’t know… I don’t know how much longer we’ll have together, or what’s going to happen. Derse — the other place — there’s something happening over there. It feels like everything is about to change. I don’t know how much longer we have!”

Again, she glanced from one to the other.

“I wanted to find you again so whatever time we have, we can spend it together. Whether it’s a day or a thousand sweeps. But I didn’t think… maybe it’s been too long.”

Her face was pleading.

“Do… do you both still care about me? Do you both still love me? Even after all this time?”

Bronya and Daraya looked at each other — their eyes met, and six hundred sweeps of shared conversation flew between them in an instant. They turned, and both of them looked Lynera in the eyes.

An in unison, they replied.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

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